Hidden In The Code
by Grey Pezzola
Summary: The Cyborg knew that she was different, yet it was her version of normality and she didn't have it within her to change. Starcraft from the point of view of the Adjutant.
1. Prologue

_I do not own StarCraft. This goes for all chapters._

**Prologue**

A door slammed in a deserted hall, three floors away, someone turned off their com, and a landing dock opened its door allow the victorious troops to land eight hundred yards to the east. A mechanic was repairing one of the main refrigerators in the kitchens, while in the armory a lone marine was polishing his teams weapons until they gleamed, and a medic typed in the information for a newly born civilian. The ship breathed with this kind of rhythm, maltreating and tender caring.

Exuberant marines discarded their armor before hitting the showers, the infirmary was filled with doctors who worked diligently on the injured, and the magistrate finally was able to take a break and relieve himself. His cyborg unplugged herself from the ship's mainframe, loosing the sense of the machine's breath, instead feeling the chill that was present in the chamber. She shivered as she stood up, pulling on her jacket. The Cyborg rubbed her scalp, fingering each receptor with one hand. Then she smoothed her hair and stood up. She carefully wrapped up her cords and pushed in her chair before leaving the office.

She made her way up the empty hall, her heels clicking the only sound. Doors hissed open for her, machines understood each other, even if they didn't always breath at the same time. She turned a corner, and as another door opened, entered the crowded main hall of the Hyperion. Fighting the flow of traffic, she made her way to the infirmary. The reception nurse smiled at her as she timidly came up to the counter, "The doc's busy, it'll be a while, Ma'am."

She noddedthe cyborg, "It's alright, one of your cryogenic cell monitors is starting to act up, I'll just have a talk with it while I wait."

"Seline, meaning to disrespect Ma'am, the doctors orders says that you are supposed to limit your time online." The nurse said.

"Mr. Adams, it'll just take a minute, and the ward will be worlds safer for it." The nurse shrugged, typing something rapidly into his console as the Cyborg made her way into the infirmary's long term care.

The halls here were brushed steel, just like the rest of the ships interior. The only difference was the widows seeing into each room, the Cyborg knew better than to look in, but still she couldn't help her eyes wandering as she opened the panel to her port. Pulling off her gloves, she placed her hand on the slightly glowing pad.

The reception nurse typed a misspelling, a doctor sent for some adrenaline, and a dropped piece of candy from months before that had been carelessly dropped had caught in the gears of the cryogenic monitor's command com was creating the problem. The Cyborg sighed, this would be too easy of a fix, but it was something she was not allowed to do.

"Lieutenant Seline, I thought I made it clear that I wanted you offline as much as possible, your body can't handle it." The Cyborg would have jumped if not for the connection to the machine. She withdrew her hand from the pad, slipping on her glove.

She turned to face the doctor, "Yes Doctor Hyde." The Cyborg said in her perfectly calm voice. "I was unable to discover the problem with this system when I was online earlier, but it just need basic maintenance, not programming repairs."

"And we are unable to discover the problem with you and your systems when we are out here." The doctor gestured for her to follow him.

"Miss Kathrine," The doctor said as the Cyborg unbuttoned her shirt in the office. "How have you been feeling lately?"

The Cyborg shrugged as she carefully folded the garment, a movement that made her almost seem completely human for a second. "Normal I guess, all my systems are running at maximum capacity, and the rash on my back cleared up." The Cyborg pulled at her hair and detached the wig, placing it on the chair. "It was an allergic reaction, as you said it would be."

She sat down on the examination table, unlacing her shoes, setting them on the table. She carefully slid off her pants, folding them and placing them on top of her shoes. She turned to face the doctor who was still rifling through charts on his board. "Hard day, Doctor Hyde?"

"You could say that Kathrine, I had to let three of my patients go, there was no way they could have lived even if we were to put them in cryo and have the experts work on them back at base." Hyde said, running a hand though his short black hair. He was tall, even for terran standards, but this large hands were soft and completely professional.

Hyde set down his clipboard, the device shutting itself down as crossed over to the Cyborg. He started off with examining her scalp, running a hand over every cable port. "You're going to have to shave soon, you're starting to get some fuzz. I'll set up an appointment for you, Kathrine." He commented. Then his hands smoothed down her shoulders, running his fingers over wires that ran just below her skin.

"You're not having any back pain?" The Cyborg shook her head, relaxing as the examination continued. When it was finished she carefully replaced her clothes, attaching her wig to her scalp. She went to the sink and used the mirror to make sure it was straight.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Doctor Hyde." The Cyborg said, holding out her hand. The doctor sighed and shook her hand. She made to pull away, but he hung on, placing his other hand on her cheek.

"Lieutenant, don't forget it's alright to be terran. Your programming isn't what makes you you, Kathrine." He said, "And for the last time, it's Simon." The Cyborg nodded slightly as he let her go. "See you."


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Lieutenant Kathrine Seline had worked on the Hyperion for as long as she could remember. She had been accepted by the other cyborgs, even some of the more open minded terrans. Her way of life could almost be considered normal, she got up every morning at exactly 4:08, ate breakfast at half past four, and was in her office by five to five. She worked all day, and when she was allowed to disconnect herself, she headed down to the mess hall and ate. On a good day, she was in bed by ten and asleep with in fifteen minutes.

She was so exact that the other cyborgs joked they could set their coms by her. But the humor only went so far, she was way more machine than they were.

"And I swear this jerk keeps hitting on me, and finally I'm just fed up with it." Lauren Fitts was one of the least noticeable cyborgs out of the small group, her fake torso was almost always covered by clothes. "So just let him press me up against a wall and flash him. Funniest thing ever, he looks at my tits and says, 'Damn, I was just trying to pick up someone with a rock hard pussy.' I punched him then, but it was the damnedest thing ever."

"Aw honey, I'm sorry. If I had been there he would have known you were off limits." Private Telefson was one of the newest additions to the cyborg group. No one was entirely sure if the private was male or female, so extreme was the cybernetic reconstruction on Telefson's body.

The group burst into laughter as Fitts punched Telefson's arm. "C'mon, Kathrine, you have to have a bad cyborg story." Fitts said, "I mean, we've all told ours."

The Cyborg looked up at her, a confused look on face. "I don't think I have one." She said softly, in her perfectly calm voice.

"That's because you don't get out of that shell of yours ever." Telefson said, draping an arm over the Cyborg's shoulder. She stiffened slightly, "I might only have been here six months, but I can tell you've got a giant stick up your- ow!" Telefson cursed as two other cyborgs smacked him, hard.

Kathrine Seline pulled out from under his arm, grabbing her tray. "I'm late, please excuse me." With that the Cyborg turned and left, walking in her perfectly even steps.

"What the hell was that for!" Telefson exploded as soon as she was out of earshot. "She's got a giant stick up her ass, it's a fact. She doesn't drink, she's never cussed, she's always eats the same goddamn healthy thing, she won't talk unless you make her, and even then she is so goddamn polite!"

Fitts shot him a stony glare, "It's not like she has a choice, she wasn't always like this."

"Kid, you ain't seen half of what cyborg entails. You think it's people like us who make the terrans so scared? No, kid, it ain't. It's chicks like her." A marine with an arm that doubled as his gun when he was on the field said, staring at the private bemusedly.

"Be nice Jason. She doesn't have any choice in the matter. Poor soul, most of her brain removed to be replaced with a computer chip."

"Maria, it's not the chip, it the programming that makes her so screwed up." The marine glared down at the young mechanic, she grinned up at him slyly. "See kid, she's designed to be a cyborg, and eventually become a computer and nothing else."

"And that's why we all try to treat her like she's as terran as the rest of us, stick up her ass or not." Fitts concluded, looking at the private over her glass.

The Cyborg, in fact, knew that she was different. She understood that it wasn't normal for people to take exactly twenty two inch steps, or to eat the same thing every day. Yet it was her version of normality and she didn't have it within her to change. The Cyborg liked the way she lived, the simplicity of it all. She sighed as she entered her room, the Cyborg liked the space she had been given two years ago when she had first boarded the Hyperion.

The walls were brushed steel, like the rest of the ship, the bed had the standard green sheets, and the desk was neatly organized with a command base purring happily away on it. Her closet held nothing but her uniform, two evening gowns, and an empty brief case. The rest of the room was bare, half of it void of a roommate that had never arrived.

The Cyborg sat down in front of the command base, touching it lightly to wake it up from its rest mode. The base slowly woke up, needing several more prods before it fully start to run. The screen blinked to life and the Cyborg set to work, her magistrate had requested a report on the strain of alien that they had recently found on Chau Sara.

She worked diligently, and at nine her internal clock told her to go to sleep. Changing into her pajamas, a dull button up night shirt with a matching pants, she crawled into her bed.

"Good morning magistrate." The Cyborg said in her usual calm voice, "The report on the unidentified alien organisms you requested is complete. Recorded sightings of the xenomorphs go back to three months, although they could have been present for as long as two years. From research we have gathered that they are telepathic, though not in the same way our psychic abilities. They are the most dangerous alien organism we know about, second only to the Protoss. A full report has been sent to your com to view at your leisure."

The magistrate didn't reply, he usually didn't and it didn't bother the Cyborg too much, she wasn't prone to conversation. And when ever the magistrate did, it was always an order of some sort. They could go on for days with only the Cyborg greeting the magistrate and informing him of the basic necessities. It was usually considered good when they had no need to converse.

Lately though, there had been more reason for them communicate. There had been the recent incineration of Chau Sara and the realization that Terrans weren't alone had made the Confederacy's security measures had increased dramatically. The usually sleepy security of the backwater planet of Mar Sara was suddenly forced into action. The magistrate of the Hyperion was asking for more reports a week than the Cyborg had written in the past year, but the Cyborg didn't complain, she was designed for work much more advanced then what she had been assigned recently.

Yet the discovery of the latest xenmorphs on Mar Sara and the study of them had been taking up all the time of the Cyborg and countless other scientists, not to mention causing overall panic in the colony. Demonstrations, meetings, and relocating Mar Sara's colonists had caused chaos, yet even though it hadn't been the way the Cyborg had intended to happen, it was enjoyable to be used more to her full capability.

There was one thing that the Cyborg found unsettling in her work, "Marshal Raynor." The Cyborg spoke in her perfectly calm tone.

"Ah, there you are Darlin', I'd been wondering why you haven't called me in the past few days." While the Cyborg's tone might have been calm, she was not. James Raynor was a marshal of Mar Sara, a man needed to assist in the relocation of Mar Sara's colonist. And while the Cyborg understood the reasons why she was ordered to converse with him, it didn't mean she found him enlightening.

"Sir, I was calling to see if you have given any thought to our request. As you asked for some time to think it over, it is customary to give a person a full 56 hours." The Cyborg kept to what was traditional and deemed appropriate. "Have you made a decision, sir?"

"I've been good, thanks for asking. It's good to hear that you've been well also." The marshal drawled, the Cyborg blinked a few times. "As for the decision, the answer is yeah, I'll help out. ."

The Cyborg didn't allow him to continue. "Thank you, sir. The Magistrate will be in contact later this day." And with that the Cyborg closed the com link. She let out something that might have been a sigh, if she had been capable to show that much emotion, instead the Cyborg set back to work.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"Adjutant Online. Good evening, Magistrate." The Cyborg spoke as soon as the Magistrate had entered his office. The Cyborg wasted no more time but started to report to the officer all the information that had arrived for the Magistrate during the short time that they had taken a break. As she played back the transmissions, she was sorting through some odd files buried within the computer's mainframe.

"Transmission ended. I have contacted the local Marshal, James Raynor. Raynor has agreed to meet your personnel en route and escort them to the new wasteland site." The Cyborg said, opening another computer file. She read it, waiting for the magistrate to give her any other orders. None came, so she focused her attention on the information

If she could, she would have scared about what she read, or at least a bit concerned. Instead she didn't feel much of anything, only a slight sinking of her stomach. The Cyborg knew she should close the file, the reading of a personal file of someone who was on her ship, or had dealings with the Hyperion was strictly prohibited. She continued to read, before her programming shut the file.

Keeping everything running smoothly for her part was mostly technical, linking up different coms, connecting buildings' mainframes to each other. The Cyborg sat, breathing in with the ship as it hovered just with in view of the moving colonists. She felt every connection made and broken, the whirr of foreign programming as new builds were constructed. When Marshal Raynor's bike connected with the mainframe, she could feel the ship's joy, the bike was well cared for, but more importantly, it was a newer model than what the ship currently had on board. The Cyborg knew that the ship would want her to ask the Marshal if they could take it apart to get the plan, but she knew that was illegal and strictly prohibited by her programming. If the Cyborg had been able to experience hate, she would have hated her programming.

The only thing in a battle that could unsettle the Cyborg was if the Hyperion was damaged, but the ship had not been in a serious battle for over a year, so the small amount of alien interference as the colonists were relocated hardly mattered to the Cyborg. At the end of the day, the Cyborg disconnected, it had just been another ordinary day in a long stream of ordinary days.

The Cyborg went down the halls, letting her feet lead her to the cafeteria. She got in line for her food, getting the same thing she had gotten the night before. None of the servers paid any attention to her, she was a easy person to serve, undemanding and polite. The Cyborg took her tray and sat down at the table where the other Cyborgs usually dined.

She had gotten off work late and no one was sitting at the table. It didn't matter to her, it wasn't like the Cyborg was exceedingly sociable. She ate in silence, taking perfectly measured bites, not paying attention to what was happening around her. The Cyborg's thoughts were a miles away, so she didn't notice the tall man who had gotten his plate and was making his way over to her.

The Cyborg looked up sharply as the man cleared his throat, "Mind if I sit here, Darlin'?" Her pulse quickened, she shook her head no, she didn't mind. He grinned a crooked smile. "Name's, Jim Raynor. I'm a Marshal."

The Cyborg looked at him, his brown eyes were nothing out of the ordinary. "Kathrine Seline, Second Lieutenant, Cybernetics Corps." She said, before going back to her meal.

The Marshal let out a noise, cocking his head to the side, "Cyborg, are you? Would have never guess it. What gives?"

Her brain whirred through possibilities of what he meant. The Cyborg weighed her best options, before saying, "I'm not at liberty to say."

He let out another crooked grin, a thing, the Cyborg noticed, didn't reach his eyes this time. They both ate in silence, before he put down his fork and looked her over again, "I'm guessin' by the way you are sitting to straight, either I'm really scarin' you darlin', or you're programmed." The Cyborg blinked at him blankly.

"Hey Kathrine!" A voice rang out across the cafeteria, the cyborg could almost feel the relief rushing through her. Telefson sauntered up to them, confident grin plastered across his face. The cyborg scooted over so that Telefson would have some place to sit, making a distance between the Marshal and herself. "Who's your friend?"

The Marshal grinned at the newcomer, "Jim Raynor."

"Telefson." Telefson said, giving Raynor a one over, seeing the Marshal's perplexed look. "Just Telefson, don't remember my name, just woke up one morning with a hunk of machinery where my body was with only basic survival skills and a broken part of my dogtag, you know how it is."

The Marshal shrugged, "No I don't, actually. Got no hardware in me."

Telefson let out something resembling a gasp, "Then what are you doing here in cyborg-ville? Not trying to pick up Kathrine are you? Many have tried, but she doesn't want any of them. That right Kathrine. Kathrine?" The two looked around for the Cyborg in question to find that she had left. "Anyways, if you are trying to pick her up, get in line, she's a fine specimen, good at her job, wicked smart, but so shy it amazing she ever leaves her office."

"I ain't trying to get her." The Marshal said, holding his hand up as if surrendering, "Not yet anyways. I'm just a firm believer of getting the shy out of their shells a bit."

The Cyborg's shell had been shook and had actually been pried off a bit, but not because of what the Marshal had done. She made her way to the infirmary, sitting stiffly in one of the chairs. The receptionist smiled at her, but she didn't return it, as per usual. Adams paged the Doctor and went back to his work.

Simon Hyde opened the door and ushered the Cyborg in. He quickly felt her forehead, checked her pulse, and felt her wiring about her neck while outside in the hall. The doctor held open the door for her as they entered his office. "Please sit, Kathrine." he said with a knowing tone of voice. "Now, tell me, what was the spike in your pulse earlier. Anything I need to know about?"

Slowly the Cyborg nodded, looking down at her hands. Hyde took the seat opposite to her and leaned in. "Is it something you can tell me?"

The Cyborg closed her eyes and let her head droop, "I don't know, Doctor Hyde. I did something against my programming, and I'm concerned about what the repercussions might be." A part of Simon Hyde was elated at the thought of Kathrine utilizing the glitches in her programming, but the part of him that knew all the legalities of her existence dreaded it.

The Doctor ran a hand over his face and let out a heavy sigh. "We both know what it means if it goes against your programming." The Cyborg nodded stiffly. "You're going to have to report yourself, and then you will considered for reprogramming, relocation, or retirement." They both knew what he meant by his final word. The Cyborg would have been scared, but instead it was the Doctor who was scared for her.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

"Now I asked you nice the first time, boy. I didn't come here to talk with you. Now throw down them weapons!" It had been one week since the Cyborg had broken her programming, one week since Jim Raynor had chosen to sit with the cyborgs instead of the normal terrans, and one week of getting to know the Marshal had been enough to make what he said next hardly surprising.

"Guess you wouldn't be a Confederate if you weren't a complete pain in the ass." The Cyborg felt her control over his com be overridden. The Cyborg's report of her violation of standard policy had resulted in her control of the ship being altered, every day she was noticing how the ship didn't want to open doors for her, or how the breath of it felt labored.

The Cyborg felt sick as someone or something entered the system, her hands clutched the arms of her work station as everything went black for a minute. When she resurfaced the Magistrate was trying to get her attention, something that had never happened before. The Cyborg quickly went over all the information she had on what would happen to Raynor and the troops within the legal system.

"Sir, with the havoc occurring in this sector, it is probable that your men will imprisoned without trial until some calm has been restored." The Cyborg spoke in her level voice, "The only man you have to worry about would be Marshal James Raynor; he has a less than perfect record."

Even though the Cyborg could no longer access security cameras and mics, she didn't need them to know what the Magistrate was doing. She registered that she should feel ashamed, that she had done something socially inept. Yet she logged off, still wondering why she should feel embarrassed. That was the first day in nearly four years that Kathrine Seline didn't eat diner.

The Cyborg woke up in the middle of the night, throwing off the covers to her bed, she stood up. She crossed over to her dresser and quickly put her uniform on. As she made her way to her center, the Cyborg's pace was a bit faster than normal, steps a bit longer, and her face set in something that resembled a grimace. She quickly tossed off her wig, not caring where it went, attaching the wires to the mainframe to her scalp. As the sense of the ship washed over the Cyborg, she felt her pulse slow, and let herself fade into the computer.

The alarm that had woken her ended up being a small group of the aliens that the Cyborg had yet to be able to identify. The organisms managed to pull down a deserted bunker, yet all the same, it required a report to be filled out and a search of the immediate area. In the morning, when the rest of the ship was awake, a medium sized squadron was sent out to see if there were anymore of the aliens.

One by one, the Cyborg felt their suits being torn apart, their pulses deadline, and their coms being disconnected. The Cyborg informed the Magistrate of their fate, gave the data collected, and then requested to go offline for an hour. The Cyborg hated to do ask, but she had yet to eat breakfast and Hyde would not appreciate her missing two meals, she rationalized. She stood up, finding her wig that had been so carelessly tossed aside.

The Cyborg wasn't particularly vain, in fact she didn't have enough capacity to be vain, but one of her highly enforced rules was that she had to look as terran as possible and her rumpled hair did nothing for the Cyborg. Carefully, she smoothed out her hair and attached it to her scalp. The Cyborg left her center and walked down the hall, physically commanding the ship to open some doors. It didn't bother as much as it should have, because now she knew what the Hyperion was doing, and it made her as happy as she could manage to be.

As soon as the Cyborg entered the mess hall, her more cheerful mood dissipated. Sitting at the traditional cyborg table was Maria, sitting slumped with a glass of something that looked alcoholic, and she was shaking. The Cyborg quickly got her food, knowing that she had to eat. The Cyborg sat down next to her, "Are you alright?" The Cyborg asked awkwardly, not sure what to do.

"No." Maria said, looking up at the Cyborg. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her breath smelled foul. "You know, this was the one day where I wasn't his mechanic. He used to say I was his good luck charm, because I didn't give him any less attention because he was a cyborg. We used to flirt everyday, but we never came out to each other. It would have been easy as a kiss one day as he left, and the one day, the one day that I'm not there he... he... he gets torn apart by those... those things!" Maria's voice were slightly slurred, she seemed to be have drinking a lot since the time she had been informed of his death.

"I'm sorry." The Cyborg said, putting a tentative hand on the other woman's shoulder. Maria nodded glumly and they went back to their respective jobs, the Cyborg getting the necessary nutrients that her body required, Maria getting as drunk as possible.

The Cyborg was almost finished when she noticed that Maria was sniffling. "Maria?" She asked, nudging her slightly.

"Why did you have him go?" The woman snapped, "Why him, why today?" The Cyborg tried to say that it was random and that it was merely his turn, but Maria had continued. "You knew that it was dangerous and still you let him go out there. Those things pulled down a bunker, and you let him be torn apart. Why Jason?"

Maria was yelling by now, one hand clutching tightly onto her drink the other pointing at the Cyborg. "You are such a cold hearted bitch! You don't feel anything for anyone but this stupid hunk of machinery we call a ship!" The Cyborg stared at the woman, knowing that she should be offended, but an alarm had just gone off in her head. Her eyes glazed over and the ship breathed in.

The Cyborg stood up and left Maria mid-shout. She made her was back to her center, the doors opening for her. By the time the Cyborg had gotten to her area, all that was needed for her to be in the computer's mainframe was the wires, her mind was already completely submerged. "Magistrate, base is under attack."


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

It had been four days, for days since she had left the mechanic to fend for herself, four days since she had sounded the alarm, four days of constant battles, and four days since she had left her office. The breathing of the ship was labored, the systems barely holding together. A slow start into the battle had lead to more causalities than the Magistrate could afford. Morale was low and supplies were even lower, even the Cyborg was feeling the strain.

Her mental capabilities were at an all time low, the connections from machine to machine were taking more effort on her part to keep together. The xenomorphs had torn down all of their outlying bases and all the militia the Magistrate could have hired had been arrested; The Confederacy was refusing to assist them; worst of all, the three bases that had fallen had been mostly scientific and had been developing upgrades that could have been used in the battle.

"Receiving incoming transmission. Com-link established:" The Cyborg spoke as she patched the two coms together. It hurt, she recognized on some distant part of her brain, basic, trivial tasks now hurt her. It was probably exhaustion or a system inside of her was malfunctioning, the Cyborg rationalized. Yet, logical or not, the Cyborg had come to the conclusion that she did not appreciate pain, at all. The Cyborg had noticed the pain crawling into her nervous system whenever a building was razed.

A flare of pain as she disconnected the Magistrate and the General, another as she started to speak to the Magistrate. "We've been unable to locate any source of military relief except... the extremist faction known as The Sons of Korhal." The Cyborg silently hoped for the Magistrate to not want to deal with The Sons of Korhal, the Confederacy was already looking at the Magistrate with suspicion. Nevertheless, the Cyborg dutifully informed the Magistrate, "Their liaison is holding on line."

Pain as the two coms were connected, the Cyborg turned off her mike and let out a short breath of agony as a bunker fell to the Zerg. The Cyborg's brains pounded and her vision swam, it had been too long since she had last been in a war setting. The Ship hummed at her, soothing her as her vision refocused. Color had been eliminated, war settings her programming informed her. The Cyborg blinked once and went back to work, making sure that connections were maintained.

"Adjutant?" The Cyborg calmly turned back on her com, ignoring the slight jolt.

"Yes sir?"

"You will send our coordinates to the Sons of Korhal's mainframe and assist them in anyway required, understood?"

"Yes sir." The Cyborg felt a nudge as someone tried to connect with her. She initiated a quick scan of the foreign mainframe and let it enter her systems. Her heart pounded sluggishly and color was restored, dim shades of what she had been able to see.

"Kathrine Seline?" It didn't hurt to connect the coms, unlike the other times.

"Human-Cyborg Adjutant Systems, version Alfa, in the Cyborg of Kathrine Seline, what can I do for you?" The Cyborg spoke, the words springing to her lips before she could do anything about them. A slow breath in, the Ship and her programs were running out of synchronization. Adrenaline starting to pump through her, as she tried to get back . The Cyborg vaguely understood that with her modifications to her body, she would have to be exceedingly terrified to release that chemical.

"Whatever, look we've got half an hour to get our mainframes hooked up, that's when Mengsk wants to send down the dropships. The sooner we get to work the sooner you stop losing men." The Cyborg didn't bother to mention that she had been working on the connection the entire time, she merely continued to fight her way through the incredibly slower systems of the Sons of Korhal's mainframe.

"What do you want me to do?" The Cyborg asked in her perfectly calm voice. There was a pause as the person on the other end fiddled around with some papers.

"We're supposed to connect the fimeral?" The person struggled with the word.

"I understand what you're trying to say. Would it be alright to assume you are not the usual technical support?" The Cyborg spoke, entering their slow system and finding the program that was asked for.

"I'm good at my usual job." The person said defensively.

"As am I." The Cyborg rerouted the systems. The Ship hummed softly. "What would the password for security clearance V?"

There was a ruffle of papers, followed by a clicking of keys. The Cyborg committed the password to memory, relishing the fact that her programming forbade her to speak of the passwords she knew. The Son's of Korhal's data base opened to The Cyborg, every file, every scrap of incriminating data was open for her perusal.

"I've connected our to mainframes, is there anything else that you require?"

"You've done fifteen pages of work in under fifteen minutes, how's that possible?" The person snapped, "Our most advanced technician would have taken at least the half an hour allotted time."

"As I've said, Ma'am, I'm very good at my job." The Cyborg spoke, blinking as the colors about her intensified. "Can I upgrade your backup hard-drive, it's in need of a tune up."

"You can do that from your ship?" The person sounded critical.

"Our mainframes are now synched, I can access anything on your mainframe." The Cyborg stated calmly. "It's a trivial tune up, but it'll make your ships processing rate increase by two percent."

"All of our information is accessible?"

"Only to me, ma'am. My programming does not allow me to read any information of someone I might meet, so personal files are protected; fortunately, I do not remember any files I read while in the system; I shall not do anything illegal or immoral with the information." The Cyborg said. "It's rather similar to a Ghost reading a person's mind, unless directly ordered, you are not going to pry. You should understand."

"Why do you think I would understand?"

"Miss Kerrigan, all your files are accessible to me, that includes your security cameras. I am quite curious as to why they sent a Ghost to do what a technician or a common secretary could have done just as well." She blinked the com was terminated on the Ghost's end. The Cyborg felt the Ghost make a new link, but didn't bother to see what it was. She bit her lip and continued working, updating the Son's of Korhal's systems as the Ship hummed to her.

"I couldn't get a reading off of her, sir." The Ghost said, sounding bitter. "I need to be closer to her, but we do need a read, she's formidable."

"Very well, I see what I can... arrange."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

The Cyborg sat on the examination table, perfectly erect. Her jacket was draped over the Doctor's chair and her shirt was unbuttoned. The Doctor washing off his hands, "You do understand what they are asking of you?"

"Of course, they want my technological expertise for their mission. Not only will my cooperation be beneficial to our forces but will display that we are earnest in our liaison." The Cyborg stated. The Doctor crossed over to her and stood between her legs. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You aren't pleased with the arrangements." The Cyborg observed.

Simon smiled weakly and nodded. "There's the chance that you will actually have to hack into the system, and that might instal a virus into your internal systems. We don't have the resources to repair you if that happens, and I don't want to have you in danger, you're too important."

"Yes, the ship would revert to a slower functioning system." The Cyborg said, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that had just washed over her.

"That's not what I meant, Kathrine." Simon sighed and ran a hand over her shoulder, "While you are good at your job, you are an honestly nice person who wants to do good, you mean well, you take care of everybody, you're polite, and there aren't enough people like that in our universe. And I don't want to loose you, Kathrine. Besides, you're not hard on the eyes."

She blinked at him, a corner of her mouth twitched up. Simon cleared his throat, shaking his head. He was to pull away when she placed her hand on top of his. "I'm scared too." Kathrine said, a small smile gracing her features.

"I know." Simon said, "You wouldn't be human if you weren't." He withdrew to his desk, shuffling some papers, trying to find something. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to be asked to be put on the team. So that I know if you get in trouble I can help you right away."

She took off her hair, placing it next to her. "As long as I know we won't loose the only competent cybernetic doctor on this ship, I have no objection."

He looked at her, "I'm the only doctor certified to work on cybernetics."

"I know, that's why you are not allowed to get injured. You have forty two people to care for." She replied. "No one else is willing to deal with us, and no one else is talented enough to understand how the terran body works with the addition of more electrical currents than it was meant to handle."

Simon crossed back over to her, "I know." He picked up her wig and moved it to his desk, where he carefully placed so it would not get tangled. She laid down, closing her eyes as he started to feel her scalp. He flicked on the device and started to remove the short hairs that were growing.

When the Cyborg left his office, the Doctor grinned as she left. He turned around, to put away the razor, only to start laughing. He went over to his chair and picked up her jacket, carefully folding it and putting it in one of the cupboards. He knew she would be upset that he hadn't sent someone to give it to her, but if what had just happened, it would be worth it to see her without her mask.

The Cyborg was dressed in her uniform, hair pulled up into a tight bun. She was sitting in the dropship, face a mask of calm. The Doctor sat next to her, looking worried enough for both of them.

"Why are you two on this mission anyways?" A marine sitting across from them sneered, the Doctor was about to retort, when the Cyborg beat him to the punch.

"Your organization has requested the help of both of us. Doctor Hyde is an incredibly gifted medic, trained in field medicine, emergency trauma, organ surgery, and cybernetics. If any of you should get hurt on this endeavor, you will have the best medical attention. I'm technical back up." The Cyborg stated, looking at the man unblinkingly.

"Meaning what? You get to get some security codes for us? We've got explosives to get us through doors."

"And to alert every guard inhabiting this prison." The Cyborg stated, "The statics of you getting out alive from here if your presence is detected is slim. My job is to short circuit the security cameras, provide you with information, hack into the mainframe and see if there is anyone else at this prison who would be beneficial to your organization, as well as giving you the codes to the doors."

The marine stared at her, the Cyborg matched his look with an unblinking appraisal of him. All too soon they arrived at the prison base. The Doctor bit his lip as they stood up, looking at how automated the Cyborg had become. As they felt the ship he squeezed her shoulder, "It'll be fine."

The party moved out and came to their first door. The marine who had been so critical of the Cyborg motioned for her to come forward. She walked to the pad on the wall, glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor and slipped off her glove. The marine raised an eyebrow at the exposed machinery. She placed her hand on the pad and stiffened.

Requests for codes, identification, reason for entry were all fighting for her to answer. She shuffled through them searching for the right one. She knew that if she chose the wrong one to respond to it would set off a chain reaction. Processing occurred in a matter of second, finally the Cyborg removed her hand from the pad and walked over the door. She typed in a code and the doors slid open.

The Cyborg didn't wait for the marine, she slipped through, placing her hand on the pad on the other side. Speed was the trick here, she threw herself into the rhythm of the prison's systems. They were fast, faster than she was used to dealing with. The Cyborg fought, trying to find the right program, she slid into the security system, going back in history to find a time segment that would work.

Finally she found the right one. "We've got a little under one hour of loop until we're visible." She stated, sliding back on her glove. The Sargent of the group nodded and signaled for her to fall into line. They crept down halls, taking each corner slowly as if it was going to be their last.

The party froze as they crept up another corner as the sounds of a couple of guards walking their direction. The Sargent made a couple of hand signs and the party sprang into action. The sounds grew closer and safeties were clicked off. The Cyborg blinked and in that moment, all hell broke loose.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Time slowed as bullets flew past, the Cyborg pulled the Doctor down. She watched as the bullets flew by, moving her body so that the bullets missed their marks. Her mind traced the trajectory of each bullet, knowing where each one would land. She knew shortly after the bullet left the muzzle where it was going to hit, and knew that there was nothing she could do to save the marine that it was whizzing closer to.

The bullet tore through the weakest point of the marine's armor, hitting a chance wire. The Cyborg didn't blink as the man fell, electrical currents much strong than even she could deal with tore through his body. His gun flew out of his hand and was kicked away from him. The Cyborg blinked as it landed near her, with in reaches grasp if she were only to lean forward a bit. Logically, she reasoned, it was a miracle that they hadn't been ripped to shreds already, automatic gause rifles weren't known for their accuracy. Also, the fact that not one of the three guards they were fighting seemed to be hurt yet they had lost one of their own was not a good statistic. All she had to do was lean forward.

The Cyborg blinked. She was standing, gun held in her hand. The guards were down, but not killed, their com sets destroyed by a well placed shot. Their armor was malfunctioning, the receptors not receiving their signals making movement impossible. The Sargent was staring at her, head cocked to one side. The Cyborg blinked again, trying to remember how she found herself standing with the gun. Yet in her head, nothing but the carefully document memories were available. She could remember so many things with clarity, but the last few seconds were gone, wiped clean from her systems.

The gun dropped from her hands as she started shaking. The Doctor ran up to her, grabbing both sides of her face. His mouth moved but no sound came out. Her brain whirred, things hollowly making connections. She blinked at him as he felt her head, pulled off her hair and stuck a test cord into one of her ports. She watched him pinch her, mouth an obscenity, and then pull off her glove. There was a disconnect, somewhere between who she was and her body.

An internal system started whirring, wildly trying to find something to grasp onto, to restart her system, to reconnect the gap. Calculations rand through her head, historical facts popped up, and medical procedures played themselves, still the disconnect was present. She breathed, a thousand miles away, the ship breathed, they took in a breath and, "Doctor, do you have adrenaline on your person?" The Cyborg clicked back together.

"Yes why?" The Doctor asked looking at her, eyes wide with shock.

"With about twenty milliliters of adrenaline and the correct electrical current, he should be fine." The Cyborg stated, stripping of her gloves.

"He's dead, Lieutenant, dead. Even if we were to bring him back to life, he's have a gaping wound and brain damage." The Sargent said, crossing her arms.

"He hasn't been entirely truthful with you, Sargent, not that it was intentional." The Cyborg said, indicating to the Doctor to get ready to place the adrenaline in the man's body. "About fifty years ago, there was a strain of research about the human mind; the Confederacy wanted to see if they could take the mentality of a ghost and cross it with the mechanics of a cyborg specialized in computer control." She crouched down and tapped the Marine's armor. It sent an spark up her arm and the Cyborg blinked rapidly.

"Unfortunately, those mind settings are not compatible, so instead of creating a group of highly specialized soldiers, the scientists created a band of humans who cannot suffer from brain damage, even postmortem." The Cyborg nodded and the Doctor injected the adrenaline just as she sent a large current of electricity into him. The Marine gasped away, bolting up from where he lay. He looked around panickedly, then crashed back to the ground.

"The Confederacy erased their minds and sent them out to live normally, he has no idea of his condition." The Cyborg concluded, calmly slipping on her gloves. The Doctor stood up holding out his hand to the Marine. Awkwardly the man got to his feet.

"We should continue, someone is bound to of heard the shots, lock down could commence at any time." The Sargent nodded. They continued down the corridors, the Marine shaking his head confusedly.

They crept down hall ways, going a bit faster than before. They wound through corridors, the Cyborg indicating which way to go. They came to a hall and she stopped, "The computer main is that direction. I should go and make sure things are running smoothly, I can still guide you, it'll make your team smaller, and will guarantee that lock down doesn't commence."

"You are my charge." The Sargent said, "I was given express orders not to let you get hurt, you need someone to go with you."

"I'll take him." She said, nodding to the injured Marine. "There's barely any security near the computer main. There's no point in destroying it, the actual core is hundreds of miles under our feet, and no one can hack the systems."

"But you can?" The Sargent asked, lifting one eyebrow.

"I should think so, after all, I did design all the security systems the Confederacy currently uses." The Cyborg took a hold of the Marine, awkwardly supporting him.

"We'll meet up in twenty, Skye, make sure she doesn't get a scratch on her, or I'll give you twice what she gets." The Sargent motioned them to leave.

"Kathrine, I'll come with you."

The Cyborg stared at the Doctor blankly. "Marshal Raynor might not be in the best of health when you find him, your services might be needed. I assure you that I am capable of taking care of someone for twenty minutes."

She pulled the Marine down the hall. He was breathing heavily, fists clenched tightly. "We can take a quick break if you need it." The Cyborg said, helping him down the hall. "It hurts quiet a lot."

"What makes you think I'm in pain?" The Marine snapped. The Cyborg came to a halt, shoving him lightly against a wall.

She slipped off a glove, "I'll see what I can do for the wires that are loose, it should regulate things better for you." There was a whir as a part of his breast plate slide to the side. The Cyborg placed her hand on it, she closed her eyes, trying to remember what systems his armor used. Slowly, the Marine's fist unclenched.

A minute later, she withdrew her hand and slipped on her glove. She helped him back from where he lent, and poked the panel shut. They continued down the hall for a few more halls. "What happened to your hands, if you don't mind me asking ma'am?"

The Cyborg frowned, "I don't remember."

"How can you not remember loosing both your hands?" The Marine asked incredulously.

"The entirety of both my arms, my digestive and respiratory systems, and the top half of my spinal column?" The Cyborg bit her lip. "I don't know. I don't remember much at all, just the past few years."

"You're that contaminated?" The Marine asked, before looking a bit ashamed.

The Cyborg blinked at him. "I am hardly contaminated, all my systems are efficient and environment friendly. If you mean repaired, that's all of what I am allowed to disclose to someone of your security clearance."

"My security clearance?" The Marine scoffed. "That's a load of bullshit. What could be so embarrassing that you don't want to talk about it? Are your legs completely solid and make you really heavy?" The Cyborg sent him a confused look.

They stopped at a door and she typed in a code. The door slid open and they entered what seemed a fairly normal office. "This is it?" The Marine asked, slumping against the door frame, gun pointing out into the hall way.

The Cyborg and sat at the desk. She turned it on, leaning towards it. Immediately, she threw herself into the system. Hacking took more creativity than she thought it was going to, yet it disappointed her that the programs she designed were hackable. Nevertheless, the Cyborg slowly sank into the systems, keeping an awkward control over the various programs.

"Take the second left, and turn right immediately, a keypad ask for a seven digit number. Type in 4381-3304, don't press enter, its a security to make sure any would-be escapists from using the internal passages." The Cyborg spoke, not ever pausing in her work.

"Roger." The Sargent replied.

"How's he holding up?" The Doctor hissed into his com.

"Shaken, but his vitals are in order." The Cyborg started, chancing a glance at the man. He was leaning against the door frame, face set in a grimace.

"And you?"

"I am fully functional." The Cyborg stated, after running a short diagnostic. A random file popped up, she brushed it aside. "Take the middle door and you should be outside cell block R, follow it down to cell block S. Marshal Raynor is in cell S187QR4." The file popped up again. The Cyborg brushed it aside again.

There was a grunt from the doorway. "Got company, ma'am, might want to wrap things up."

The Cyborg nodded sharply, brushing aside the file again. The Base became nothing more than a prison. She stood up just as the first few rounds were fired. The Cyborg crossed over to the Marine and touch his arm.

The Marine blinked down at her before shoving her behind him. He formed a human shield as the backed down the hall. The Cyborg calculated each bullet, noting that the Marine was a better marksmen than their adversaries. One of the four men fell. The Cyborg and the Marine backed around a corner.

"Got Raynor." The Sargent barked in the Cyborg's ear.

"We've got some soldiers on our tail." The Marine shouted over the shots he was firing.

"We'll be there soon." The second man fell. The shots were becoming more wild, more frantic. The Cyborg and the Marine rounded another corner.

"Run, Ma'am, or it'll be my hide on the line for getting you hurt." The Marine said, bracing himself against the wall. The Cyborg opened her mouth to object, "You can make it up to me by buying me a drink when we get back to base."

Heavy footsteps neared the corner. She smiled, a crooked grin. "Only if you buy the second round." Kathrine said, "And all I get is a drink? Pity." The Marine laughed.

With that, she ran. Shots rang out, the third soldier fell. She reached out, trying to find the Marine's suit, but found something blocking her. The file popped up. She brushed it aside.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"I have been..."

"We're almost there, hold on Kathrine."

"It is in my-"

"Don't talk, it'll only spread. Just hold on!" The sounds of footsteps reached her ears.

"File is infected." The Cyborg stated, swaying where she stood.

"Shit!" The words sounded from behind her. She tried to turn, the Ship breathed in a thousand miles away, the Cyborg blinked. The Ship breathed out, the Cyborg crumpled.

The Cyborg never hit the ground, "Gotcha, Darlin'."


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"Get her down, I need a drip, the blue one, a b16 blood pack and my tools. Move it!" the Doctor barked out orders to the soldiers who were shuffling around, unsure of what they were supposed to do. The Doctor grabbed his roll of tools and spread them out on a side table. Scalpels, scissors, syringes were all carefully organized and his hand deftly found the tool he needed.

The laser cut through her shirt with out cutting her skin. "Where's that blood bag?" The Doctor snapped as he was handed the other package. He quickly attached it to the wall and inserted the needle into a small tab halfway up her arm. The Doctor quickly detached her hair, shoving it into someone's arms.

"The blood pack is labeled B16 people, where is my blood pack?" The Doctor barked. He went back to his row of tools, slipping out a large laser. He flicked it on, pointing it against the table next to him. It cut through easily. He fiddled with the nod and pointed it at the table again.

"The laser is safe, sir." The voice came from the wall's speakers.

"Woah, who the-" the Marine jumped at the voice.

"The Lieutenant in secure mode." The Doctor stated not looking up from his work.

"But she's right there." The Marine pointed at the Cyborg. The Doctor made a noise of agreement. "She can't have, I didn't see her lips move!"

"You know how there is an icon every time you talk to a computer main?" The Doctor sighed, "That's her job, she can enter the systems. Now be quiet."

The Doctor took the laser and pointed it against the Cyborg's collarbone. A small seam of blood formed where the laser had hit. The Doctor cut from her collar to her sternum, then quickly grabbed a new pair of gloves and peeled back the flap of skin that had been formed. Wiring was exposed, covered by a thin membrane of semi-transparent muscle. The Doctor took out a razor and slowly cut the tissue open. He pulled apart the muscles, pushed aside the wires to reveal a small computer board the size of a fingernail.

"Sir, the is no point in removing that hard-drive, my systems are are failing, the most logical thing would be to erase my cerebral core." The Cyborg spoke in the Doctor's ear.

"That will wipe everything, I can't reprogram you well enough to make a complete replica of your current programming." The Doctor stated, pulling at the chip with a pair of tweezers.

"It doesn't matter sir, it is my duty to serve, no matter what that means or what it costs me. It states in my-"

"I don't care about what your rules state, I don't care about the laws of service you are forced to follow, I don't care!" The Doctor snapped, extracting the ship and putting it into a small bag.

There was a pause. "I've make you do this before." It wasn't a question, it was the Cyborg stating a fact.

"Yes." The Doctor, sighed, replacing the wires and the muscle.

"And every time I wouldn't remember the last resetting."

"Each time you would promise it will be the last." The Doctor smoothed down the skin.

"How many times have I been reset?" The Cyborg's voice was soft, despite the fact she was completely emerged in the system.

"Six times since I first met you." The Doctor took out the laser again, going to her skull.

"How long have we known each other?"

"Twenty three years in two months."

"Roughly every three years, ten months and twenty days." The Cyborg stated. "You would have been a young man when we first met."

"And you haven't aged a day." The Doctor made a clean incision into her skin. He carefully slid it off, unlike her shoulder, there was no flesh connection the skin to her skull. Her skull was make of a dull metal, port making the only imperfection to an otherwise perfectly smooth dome. The Doctor kept pulling aside the skin until a small seem was show shown an inch about her eyes.

A low whistle came from behind the Doctor. "They weren't kidding about her hardware."

"Marshal Raynor-"

"Jim's fine." The Marshal grinned, swinging into one of the seats closer to the table.

"You're not supposed to be up and about until I have had a chance to inspect you." The Doctor spoke calmly.

"Aw, I've been frozen before, I know the symptoms of not being thawed correctly." The Marshal shrugged. "I feel fine, no headache, no vertigo, everythin' is workin' fine, well, everything I can check with women on board, if you know what I mean."

"He is correct. His vitals are all in order, electrical currents are active, and this heart beat is steady." The Cyborg spoke through the sound system not just in the Doctor's ear, as she had been since that had started discussing her wipes.

"Why thank you for agreein' with me." The Marshal said with a grin.

"You're welcome, sir." The Cyborg said.

The Marshal looked surprised, yet impressed. "Wow, she's polite without being annoying. Where can I get one of her?"

The Doctor had been examining her skull while the two had be conversing.. He had inserted small tools into the seam. The Doctor jiggled them around for a few seconds before responding. "You looking at her." With that the Doctor pulled the tools apart. The seam opened and a large computer board was revealed.

"She's... they're... that's Kathrine?" The Marshal managed to say.

"Yes." The Doctor huffed. "Now if you want to be useful go distract her."

"By doing what?" The Marshal asked.

"Play chess with her or something like that."

"Alright. Chess sound good, Kathrine?"

"I always win. "The Cyborg spoke, sounding matter-of-fact.

"We'll see about that." Jim grinned, "I'm the best there is."

"I accept your challenge."

"Prepare yourself to be slaughtered."

"You two, get out of this room if you are going to flirt. I need to focus." The Doctor sigh exasperatedly.

"I am in the entire ship, I do not have the ability of leave any room." The Cyborg stated.

"Kathrine." The Doctor said in a warning tone.

"We're goin',we're goin'." Jim laughed, getting up from his seat. "C'mon, Kathrine." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Kathrine?" Simon said, looking up from his work.

"Yes sir?"

"Be nice to him." Simon let himself smile.

"I'll try."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

The Ship breathed, a calming, constant, caring rhythm to the Cyborg's mind. As she drifted within the system, it was hard for her to remember what having a body really felt like, and what its uses were, merely being in the Ship was good enough for her. They Cyborg could feel it became wary as it neared the Son's of Korhal's flag ship, and how it idly grumbled to itself late at night when there was nothing much to do.

It had been nearly a week since they had broken Raynor out of prison, and in that time, neither the Marshal nor the Cyborg's body had left the infirmary. At first the Marshal hadn't been allowed to leave, being told that several tests had to be completed, but the tests had only taken two days. The Marshal had spent the rest of his days in the infirmary next to the body of the Cyborg, talking to her, occasionally holding her hand, and playing chess. The two of them ended up being almost perfectly matched at chess.

"That's cheating." The Cybrog stated.

"All's fair in love and war." He shrugged, not undoing his illegal move.

"Why would you ignore the rules?" The Cyborg stated.

"Why would you not?" The Marshal countered. "When you know that there is no hope of survival, improvise, change things up, cheat if you have to."

"But then you forfeit." She was speaking into his ear via a com.

"Sometimes you have to forsake the law to go what is right. You've done it." He watched as she moved a pawn on the holographic board.

"It is not within my ability to break the law." The Cyborg sounded more mechanical than ever.

"Really? Then why aren't you reprogrammed, Darlin'? I'm familiar with the laws Cybernetic Beings have to follow, and you violating several of them."

"It was the most logical option." The Cyborg stated.

"And breakin' me out of prison?"

"Following orders."

"The fact you haven't reported all of us to the Confederacy?" He raised an eyebrow and move a piece.

She made her move, "Checkmate."

"Touche, Darlin'." He yawned.

"You should get some rest,sir." the Cyborg said.

"Call me Jim, please. How many times do I have to tell you." He sounded exasperated.

"I can't."The Cyborg said softly.

"Oh." The Marshal looked down at his hands,"Why not?"

"It's not you listed name." The Cyborg almost sounded ashamed, mostly should sounded as if she was listing a fact.

There was an awkward pause. "Well, would James work?"

"Yes." the Cyborg answered immediately. "Yes, it would."

"Then call me James." James said with a shrug." There was a pause.

"Yes, James." The Cyborg replied.

"Now don't you dare lock me in my room again, I'm a big boy who knows how much sleep he needs." James yawned and stood up. "Get back into that body of yours, I would've liked to see that smile when you called me James. G'night Kathrine."

"Good night, James." The Cyborg replied, the doors slid open for the Marshal as he made his way back to his room.

James Raynor was a source of confusion for the Cyborg. While he pretended to be a rather shallow man, he was in all actuality brilliant. The marshal's tactical skills were impressive, even when he cheated, and he was patient. He seemed to understand about the restrictions on her as a cybernetic being.

She wandered within the systems, checking various programs, sorting files, checking connections, and mostly just being useful. Within the systems there wasn't much freedom for her; the Cyborg didn't mind constantly working, but she did miss sleeping. The Ship never slept, there was always someone awake, moving about, requiring the Ship's assistance. The Cyborg felt a bit sad for the Ship.

The Ship purred at her, a reminder that she was a part of the Ship and the Ship was a part of her. The Ship slept when the Cyborg slept. That, the Cyborg decided, was one of the only good reasons she should return to her body.

The lights flickered off in the infirmary, only a few hall lights dimly lit the abandoned hallways. The Cyborg let out an internal sigh, she was so tired, if only she could sleep.

The next morning the lights in the Ship came to life and exactly 04h18. The cool brightness illuminated the room. There was a soft sigh from the bed and the lights in the room shut off. A few minutes later, the lights turned back on. This time there was a groan as the light shut off. When the lights turned back on, the lights shut off again. The next time the lights turned on, there was a crack and the light bulb exploded. There was a mutter of contentment.

A few minutes later, the emergency power strips turned on. Before they could turn off, the door flew open, light from the hall spilled in. Voices reached in and echoed off of the walls, creating a cacophony of sounds. The door slid closed behind all of the people to whom the voices belonged to, still a pale blue light have the room an eerie and bright tint. There was a squeak from a nurse as a pillow, which had been thrown in a graceful, perfectly calculated ark, landed in her face.

The noise died down and silence was restored except for the faint breathing of the assembled group. Finally someone spoke, "Well, she's awake."

"And grumpy." said Simon, scratching his ear. "I don't think now would be the best time to tell her." There was a silent agreement as they stared at the Cyborg who had curled into a ball, ignoring the wires and needles in her.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

When the Cyborg entered her room, it took her a few seconds to recognized where exactly she was. Her bed had moved, pressed now against the far wall. The other bed which had been always covered with a white dust sheet was now covered with a navy bed spread. There were clothes that did not belong to her in the closet, and the bathroom now had two sets of towels, the Cyborg's white and a pair of navy. The Cyborg frowned at her room, feeling a bit puzzled, she hadn't heard or read that someone had been assigned as her roommate.

She blinked, heading over to the closet to pull out her uniform, the only uniform she had now, apart from her formal wear. The Cyborg slipped off the borrowed shirt, folding it carefully, before quickly buttoning her shirt. One she was completely uniformed, she did another sweep of the room. She'd lost a weeks worth of time, there were more to her duties for her to fulfill other than the ones she could do within the systems. Her stomach rumbled, causing the Cyborg to stare down at her torso in relative shock.

She laced her shoes, smoothed hair down, and left the room. If she had been wondering what she should be doing first, her body had made up her mind for her. She went down the halls, walking with her usual 22 ½ inch step. The Cyborg entered the mess hall, only to feel like she was out of place yet again. There wasn't noticeable differences, no tables had been moved, the food was generic, but the people had moved. Where there would be typically a cluster of women sitting and chatting loudly over the lowest calorie item of the day, there was a mix of men and women all lounging about and eating slowly. It didn't alarm the Cyborg because she understood that change did occur, but she was a bit out of place, seeing that she could not find where she was supposed to sit.

It ended up that by the time the Cyborg had gotten her food, someone had found her. "My God Kathrine! Where the hell have you been?" The Cyborg jumped as someone crushed her in a bone shattering hug. "A week? A week without any sort of communication. For all we knew you could have been left behind during the rescue!"

The Cyborg made a less than dignified noise, more of a squeak than anything else. She was replaced to her feet delicately. She turned, a blush creeping to her cheeks as she noticed that there were a few people giving the two of them funny looks. "I was in the infirmary." She said softly.

"Honey, you couldn't have given us a shout?"

"I was not conscious until this morning."

"Oh Kathrine, for being one of the smartest people I know, you can be so silly. Just because you are in the system doesn't mean you can't drop us a note saying that you are in the shop. What had be patched?"

"I was infected." The private hissed, clicking his tongue at her.

"What were you looking at that you shouldn't have been? Was it good? Government secrets? Or was it hot?" Telefson said with a glint in his eye. She gave him a confused look. He laughed at it, grinning endearingly, "You are so innocent, Kathrine! It's too cute."

"Thank you." She said after a pause. The rest of the trip to the new table passed in silence. It was near the end of the allotted dining time, so the table only had a few of what should have been a crowded. Telefson swung onto one of the benches, letting the Cyborg sit down properly. She quickly scanned the table, noticing that there was someone she didn't recognize.

"Ah, you noticed the cute one!" Telefson in a conspiratorial whisper. He shook his hair out of his eyes. "Hey, come over here, meet Kathrine!"

The woman looked up, she had green eyes and an upturned mouth that seemed to be laughing at some joke that only she got, yet the good humor didn't reach her eyes. She brushed red hair back behind her shoulder and stood up, she moved over to where the two of them were sitting.

"Kathrine, this is Sarah. Sarah, meet Kathrine." The woman held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you." the woman said.

"We've already met." the Cyborg returned the favor. "You are the ghost who was assigned as technical support."

The Ghost smirked, "You're the know it all computer. Nice to know. Look, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later." Before the Cyborg could say anything, the Ghost stalked off.

"She's one of those people who you have to ease into." Telefson said, sipping his drink. " But I'm sure with enough prying she'll open up." The Cyborg didn't say anything, merely started eating. When she was finished, she bid Telefson farewell heading to her office to make sure that the Magistrate didn't need her to work today before she went into maintenance.

The halls were emptier than normal, there were no small groups of people chatting as they walked from place to place, no one was lounging about playing cards in what should have been the traditional half hour off after lunch. The only movement that did occur was single messengers quickly going to their destinations, and even they were scarce. The Cyborg noted all of this, deciding that she would ask about it to see when this trend had occurred.

She stopped just before she entered her office, a realization hitting her like a blow. She hadn't noticed the change when she had been in the Systems of the Ship. The Ship, she realized, didn't care about most of the people on board, only her it seemed. The door to her office slid open, just as it had for as long as she could remember.

As it slid shut behind her, a shiver ran up her spine. She let out a low breath. The Cyborg perched on her chair, unrolling her wires. The wires were stiff from the lack of use she noticed as she uncoiled them, cold and thin. The whole room was stiff and cold, a large desk filled one corner, covered with neatly organized office supplies, computers, parts, wire, and papers. On the opposite wall was a faded portrait that the Cyborg had never really examined, nor did she care to. An old wall panel, ill disguised with metal that was brushed a different direction, sat under the picture, mostly hidden. There was only one thing in the room that had any life to it, an old, beat up chair that could swivel and roll about. It sat as it always had in front of her desk.

It didn't both her, when she was within the Systems, the Cyborg had no time for creature comforts, and she was never in the office and out of the Systems at the same time for very long. That wasn't her purpose nor her job. The Cyborg let out a low breath before attaching her final wire. The Ship breathed in, the Cyborg breathed in, together they breathed out.

There was work she had to do, she realized as she wandered through the Systems, the most immanent one being, "Your tenure as Colonial Magistrate is suspended, pending an official investigation of your affiliation with the Sons of Korhal." The Cyborg spoke into her com, not bothering with alerting the Former Magistrate of her presence. Her hands flew across the keyboard as she continued to speak, it was only a matter of time until the Confederacy would attempt to shut the Ship and its Cyborg down.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

There was a package for her on her desk, it was wrapped inexpertly with white paper. She brushed it aside to see data disks and a hastily scribbled note. She held up the disks, running a experimental hand over the casing. It was older technology than she was used to dealing with, despite the fact she herself was outdated. The Cyborg set down the disks and glanced at the time, it was nine, and she had rationalized that she could work until at least eleven to make up for all time she had lost while in the infirmary.

Now that she actually saw what she was to be working on, she regretted her decision. She sat down in her chair and clicked open the outer casing and withdrew the hard drive. The Cyborg quickly stripped the device down to the bare minimum before attaching all the ports that she could. She let out a low breath of something between annoyance and indifference at how old the Son's of Korhal's technology was. She decided that as soon as they reached a station with any kind of purchasable upgrades, the Cyborg would have to insist on getting them.

The Cyborg was in the Systems before all of her wires were in. Accessing where the drive was located was easier said than done, the limited connections made entry nearly impossible, but once inside the device everything was muddled, information whispered at her in different voices, a muttering of different encryptions. It was like drowning, her mind was trapped.

A knock at the door pulled her out of the Systems so quickly, the Cyborg had to take a moment to settle her head. She took a shakey breath and closed her eyes.

"I know you're in there, Kathrine, you've been in there for the past nineteen hours. Open up, I brought dinner." The southern accent was recognizable anywhere. "It's now 13h15, you've worked enough."

The Cyborg quickly disconnect from the Systems entirely, slipping her hair on. She gave it a quick straighten. She went to the wall and type in the access code. The door didn't open. The Cyborg frowned and resubmitted the number. The Ship grumbled and a light bulb shattered.

"Kathrine? Everything ok in there?" The Marshal called through the door. The Cyborg let out a small sigh and pressed in the combination one final time. This time when the Ship tried to block the command to keep the Cyborg's office closed, the Cyborg punched in the code again. The door slowly slid open, in a reluctant manor. The Marshal grinned at her, holding up a box. "Hard as hello to get them to box it, but they wouldn't allow me to take the tray out. Are you gonna let me in?"

The Cyborg stood to one side, keeping her arm against the door to insure the Ship did not lock the Marshal out or try to close the door while the man was still in the door frame. The door closed slowly as the man put down the box on the desk.

"Not much in here. Though ya would've made it your own by now." The Marshal commented as he opened the box.

"I do not have th time to make this office personalized." The Cyborg said standing stiffly as the Marshal withdrew a bowl and two spoons.

"Yeah, I already had you pegged as a busy bodied neat freak, but not as someone who wouldn't spend four years in a room without taking the time to make it your own." He shrugged, "Ah well. Dinner, I know you are hungry. If I remember correctly your body needs at least 4200 calories to run effectively, meaning you should be eatin' every three hours. Not that you do."

"How do you know that?" The Cyborg said after an moment.

"You're not the first cyborg I've had the pleasure of talkin' to. And the Doc told me about ya a bit. Dn't worry, nothing bad, just the basics. Your age, your favorite color, your rank, want you like to eat."

She frowned at him, "That should be against the law."

James let out a laugh, "Darlin', we're in a stolen ship, on the run from the government we've all belonged to since birth with a bunch of people who are considered terrorists, and you are worried about confidentiality?" The Cyborg took a moment to process what he had just said, then nodded slowly. "Don't worry, we were talkin' as people with a mutual friend. Nothing for ya to worry about. We discussed your bad habit of not eatin' enough, a common habit with Cybernetic Beings."

"It's a hazard of being programmed the Cyborg stated calmly.

"I don't blame ya for not eating. I also get so wrapped up in my work I forget time is still goin'." By this time,. He had spread the dinner out. The meal was small, a bowl of soup, a sandwich cut in half, two cookies and a bottle of something that glowed an odd shade of purple, "Well, ya going to sit?"

"There's only one chair." The Cyborg stated.

"And it's made for someone your size. You're not exactly a giant." James shrugged. "I'll stand until you decide your office needs more chairs." He lent back on the desk, "I couldn't get two bowls, hope ya don't mind sharing."

The meal wasn't as awkward as the Cyborg had expected on being. Raynor was sharp, having more knowledge about things than she would have expected. He had a less refined sense of humor than the Cyborg was used to, but by the time they were walking back to her room, the Cyborg had a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. When they reached her door, they paused.

"Thank you for dinner, James." The Cyborg said, awkwardness finally making it's appearance.

He grinned, "Thanks for lettin' me in your office." He let out a chuckle as the corner of her mouth twitched as she suppressed a smile. "I'll see ya, Kitti. G'night."

"Goodnight." She said, typing in the code to her door. Just before she pressed the final number in, it hit her. "Kitti?" Kathrine turned around to ask James, but he was already gone. Biting her lip, she punched in the final number.

The door slid open smoothly revealing that the lights were already out and someone was breathing lightly inside. Not wanting to wake up the sleeping woman, the Cyborg found her way around the room by hearing and touch. She undressed quickly and got ready for bed.

The Cyborg woke before the woman, the room was still dark, but as before the Cyborg didn't need light to find her was around the place. She made her way to the bathroom, closing the door and switching on the light. She dressed, making certain that she looked sharp in the mirror. The Cyborg had just put back on her wig and straightened it when the door slid open.

"You could've woken me up." The woman said, her red hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

"I did not want to, it is considered rude to do so if it is not an emergency." The Cyborg spoke, turning to face the woman. "We have met before, have we not?"

"I don't think so." The woman stated. Her tone was flat, no voice-inflection was present.

"My mistake." the Cyborg said, "My name is Kathrine Seline, Second Lieutenant, Cybernetics Corps."

"Sarah Kerrigan." The Ghost said. The Cyborg did not want to mention that they had in fact met, because that was rude and cybernetic beings were not supposed to be rude. "You done with the bathroom?"

The Cyborg nodded, "I'm going to breakfast now. Have a nice day." The Ghost let her pass by. As the Cyborg left their rooms, she didn't notice the dark glare being shot her way.

**Sorry for the delay, life keeps throwing stuff at me. Before you get on my case about the whole Raynor/Kathrine thing, as a romantic relation, it's not going to last. I like Sarah/James waaaaay to much. But for the good news, I'm out of school, my french final was easy, my history final is another story entirely (tested on 1 1/2 sections of info we hadn't even read). As long as my latest curve ball doesn't try to kiss me on our date tomorrow, things should go faster. Hopefully. Happy Holidays and New Year! I hope to post before New Years, but no promises.  
**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

The actual decoding of data disks took most of a day once the Cyborg found out that there was more than one type of encryption to be broken. It was very late at night by the time the Cyborg actually had enough of the information accessible for it to make sense. What was revealed were the construction plans for something called a Psychic Neural Impression Emitter or a 'PsiEmitter' as one report called it. The PsiEmitter could, from as far as the Cyborg could decipher, was a prototype weapon used with the Zerg.

Yet the Cyborg knew that what she currently could access was merely a fraction of what was on the disks. She wanted to spend more time trying to decoding the different levels of the encryption; unfortunately, her orders were to report as soon as she had any valuable information.

"Commander?" The Cyborg spoke into her com. The Cyborg knew the Commander was in his office, so she continued, "The data disks that were retrieved from Mar Sara's main outpost contain the plans for a weapon. However all the research about its effectiveness is still encrypted."

The Cyborg gave a start as a com interrupted her connection to the Commander. "Hey, man. Headquarters has begun analysis of the discs." All crimes were forgiven as the uninformed Marshal spoke. "They expect to have them decoded shortly. I hope whatever's on those discs is worth it."

The Cyborg sat up a bit straighter as she felt the prod of another connection, "Receiving incoming transmission from Arcturus Mengsk." It was at that point when she stopped paying attention to the conversation, the decoding was more important she could always read the transcript of the conversation later.

"Adjuant."

"Yes sir?" It's one of the rare times the Commander speaks, the Cyborg can't help but direct all her attention to him.

"I would like you to keep the fact there is more research just between the two of us."

"Of course, sir."

"I will be informing Mengsk of your discovery shortly, can you a physical copy of the plans?"

"Yes, sir." The Cyborg didn't get a reply, she didn't really expect one. She set to work, pulling out the files from the data disks, she slid open a drawer and pulled out a thick pad of paper. Grabbing a pencil from a jar of various office supplies, she turned to a clean sheet of paper and set to work.

The Cyborg knew that if she tried to directly transfer the documents anywhere that the Confederacy would see it, despite all the precautions the Cyborg had put up. Extracting illegal information was bad enough, but if the extracted was completely accurate that would destroy the image of only cooperating because she was being forced to entirely.

The Cyborg rolled up her cuffs and put the pencil to the paper, drawing a perfectly straight line. With that she made the key that started the rest of her assignment. Charcoal had soon turned the bottom of her pale hand black as she sketched out the plans for a weapon that she, for once, did not have all the for. So engrossed was she in her project she didn't hear as the Marshal who had spent time getting to know her meet the Ghost who didn't care to get to know her and only wanted what was in her mind. The Cyborg didn't notice as something in the Systems rippled, making a copy of all the now unencrypted information. The Cyborg didn't notice the grumbling of the Ship as more buildings were added to the Systems.

The Cyborg pulled away from the pad of paper hours later to find that she had a message waiting for her from the Commander. She quickly straightened away the pile of paper that had been the sketches for the plans and wiped off her hands.

"Commander, you wanted me?" She spoke after the Cyborg was sure she had his attention.

"Ah yes, I need you to present the research you have uncovered." The Commander stated, "I would introduce you as the head of our research department."

"We don't have a research department, sir." The Cyborg mentioned.

"Which would why instating a research department with you as the head would be easy."

The Cyborg thought about that for a moment, "You want me to forge something."

The Commander sighed, "I don't trust these people, at all. I don't care for them. I want to ensure they don't hold all the cards in the deck."

"That is advisable, sir." The Cyborg nodded, "I will get to work right away. When would the presentation be?"

"As soon as you are ready."

"Understood." It was a few hours later when she withdrew herself from her work, heading down to the mess hall. It was late and fairly empty. She was tired, her hands ached, and when she saw the line of of people who were all enjoying a late dinner, the Cyborg felt her heart skin. She let out a soft breath and got in line, waiting as patiently as she could.

"Lutentant Seline." The voice was blunt, stating a fact more than asking a question.

"Yes?" The Cyborg turned, taking in the man who had called her name. "Is there anything I can assist you with, Mr...?"

"Mengsk." The man smiled, he was an older man with a warm smile, but, The Cyborg noticed, his eyes were cold. She regarded him with the impassive glance of someone programmed.

"Is there anything I can assist you with, Mr. Mengsk?" The Cyborg repeated herself.

"Yes, I was told you were the one to go to when one's computer is acting up." Megnsk said.

"I am certainly qualified to repair a computer, but there are other people. My job is not traditionally repair."

"Ah but you see, my computer has some... sensitive... files on them, and I was told that you are not curious about other people's business." The Cyborg blinked.

"What's the problem?"

"You see, I recently downloaded some encrypted information from the data disks that are currently in the research department and they seem to have contained a virus of some sort."

"You should have sent me a message, I am off duty now. I will address your problem fist thing in the morning." The Cyborg said, she understood why the Commander would not trust this man, there was something false about him, a slimy, sneering person beneath the seemingly open exterior.

"Now, I would love it if you would do it now as a personal favor." He said, smiling charmingly.

The Cyborg blinked at him, "I am sorry, but I cannot right now. I only have half an hour to eat, then I have a prebious engagement. I do apologize."

"Arcturus?" The Cyborg turned to see the orange hair of the Ghost.

"If you will excuse me?" The Cyborg walked up to the buffet and the server looked at her with a bored expression.

"The usual, sweetheart?" The woman sounded bored.

"Yes, please." The Cyborg said. She went down the line, getting the same thing as she had for the past few years. At the very end of the buffet were the dessert section was, the man there was handing out more cookies than were typically suggested.

"You want some?" The man asked, "My better half went a bit crazy this morning when it came to the cookies. He just got confirmation that his family was evacuated."

"They haven't confirmed who is on board yet?" The Cyborg asked.

"Nah, they say they have more important things to be doing. Something about a Confederacy thing that has to be decoded then built, then before that is was rescuing some marshal, but there has been nothing done for the civilians we rescued." The man shrugged. "Anyways, cookie?"

The corner of the Cyborg's mouth twitched up, "Why not?" The offered cookie was placed on her plate. She turned and left the line, heading over to where she usually sat.

"Kathrine!" Fitts called as the Cyborg made her way to the table. "What were you doing with that old guy? I don't recognize him."

"That was Arcturus Mengsk." The Cyborg replied.

"You mean the notorious 'terrorist'? What did you think?" Fitts said, propping her chin on her hand.

The Cyborg fiddled with her cuff. "There was something about him that unsettled me."

"He set off your 'uh-oh' feeling? Sure it wasn't left over programming?"

"Programming does not make me feel anything, I just don't cooperate with those who are not legal." The Cyborg stated.

"Then how the hell are you still working?" Fitts said, looking sharply at her.

"There's a clause, or something. I do not actually know." The Cyborg said, biting her lip.

Fitts let out a small chuckle, "That's a first. Don't worry about it, though. Everything should end up fine, or at least organized, knowing you." Dinner was a loud affair everyone talking loudly, even the Cyborg chipped in her opinions. Unfortunately it ended too soon and everyone had to go to their respective places. The Cyborg found herself walking down the hall with Fitts, the two women being as comfortably as they could. The silence between them was neither awkward or companionable, it merely was.

"You sure you're alright with working here?" The Cyborg snapped to attention.

"O-oh, I have no emotional problem with it." She said, "It's better for the Terran race. There's an exception to my morality fore stating that I must do what is best for the Terrans, not what is best for the Confederacy. I was programmed before they instigated the Loyalty factors, I never had the time to get upgraded."

"Which means?" Fitts said, knowing the Cyborg well enough to know there was an underlying meaning in what she was saying.

"It means that until I have absolutely nothing to do, you are all safe." The two cyborgs had now arrived at the infirmary. "I've got to go, have a good evening."

"You too, Kathrine."

"I will try." Fitts laughed lightly. The Cyborg entered the lobby of the infirmary to find Simon Hyde looking worried.

"You're late. Is everything alright?" The Doctor asked, immediately checking her pulse.

"To the best of my knowledge, all my systems are functioning. I was merely detained by Arcturus Mengsk; he wanted my assistance. Unfortunately, I was already going to be late." The Doctor gave her a calculating look, he gently removed his hand from her wrist.

When they were within the room, things became routine. The Cyborg let the Doctor's hands smooth over her skin as he probed every wire. Silence fell between the two of them as his hands searched her for the smallest flood.

"You know that Mengsk is sniffing you out." The Doctor said, "he puts one of his most useful ghosts in the same quarters as you and he's talking to you in person."

"Understood, I will be wary of him, though I am hardly worth being investigated; my file is not classified." The Cyborg said calmly. The Doctor paused in his examination of her skin, his hand dropped down to hers.

"It's not just that. I don't trust him."

"You haven't even met him." The Cyborg said softly.

"I know. Just please keep away from him. He's smooth, almost too smooth to come across as someone who can be trusted."

"I will." The Cyborg said placing her other hand on his. "Don't worry."

"I just want to make-" She laughed softly, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Simon." Kathrine said, leaning towards him. "It's going to be alright."

"Kathrine." Simon's free hang touched her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

There was a knock at the door. The Doctor and the Cyborg broke apart. "Hyde, you in there?"

"I'm currently with a patient." The Doctor called back to the person. The Cyborg had straightened, back perfectly erect.

"I should be going, Doctor Hyde, it is getting late." She had slipped back on her shirt and stood up.

"It's..." The Doctor began, looking at her. "I'll see you at our next appointment."

"Have a good evening." The Cyborg said shakily.

"You too." He said smiling at her. The Cyborg left, feeling her heart thump against it's mesh of metal in a way she had never felt it do before.

**Hello, I have suddenly gotten a life. It's been three weeks? Quick run down of what happened in that time (if any of you care). Week 1: Christmas Week- Lots of family over... I got a haircut for Christmas! :D (Just a cut, nothing fancy like coloring). Week 2: Prepping for an AnimeCon, going to the Con, flirting with Eva La Dare* while at the con, being hyper for 3 days straight, made friends with a Pyramid Head, etc. Week 3 (this week): First week of school, GSA's Anti-Slur Campaign Week, friends break up week, my birthday week, finally got Starcraft 2 week**. All three weeks: Boy Drama***! And my new math teacher looks like Dexter**** All in all, I've been having a very life-ful life. **

**And now a new story update! I will deleting these comments after a few chapters have been posted. That means 2 things! 1, You guys get a more accurate word count. 2, I can post long Author Notes, like this one. So until later (hopefully not three weeks), enjoy the 2138 words of fiction you just read!  
**

*Silent Hill 5, really guys?

**Yes, I hadn't gotten it yet. I'm broke. And I haven't finished it. Those who wish to spoil, I do have four cats with claws. And a horse, but he's a moron so...

***Isn't that everyone's favorite? But seriously he's a creeper and not a good kind of creeper.

****Dexter from Dexter? Again, no derp.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

The thing the Cyborg had the most trouble with when making the PsiEmitter was actually starting to work on it. She had transferred all the information needed, and the few supplies she didn't have were a nonissue seeing as she had been told to make a model, not a completely functioning emitter. The plans the Cyborg had received didn't make a functioning PsiEmitter from what she could tell. There was no on or off switch, meaning as soon as it was turned finished being built, only complete destruction of it could stop the signal.

Yet the information about the plans wasn't what prevented her from starting, it was the Ship. Programs were shutting down, whole areas were without power, and the Ship was being unresponsive. The Cyborg had been working nonstop from both her office and various ports about the Ship. In the few days the Ship had been down, she had spent feeling utterly alone, the usual babble and murmurs from the Ship was gone, all that was left were other Terrans. The sounds they made as they when about their day were not as comforting as the mechanical whirs and clicks she had grown so accustomed to.

There were only a few times she didn't feel so hopelessly alone. "Hey Darlin', what's eating you?" The Cyborg didn't even look up at the Marshal even though he had entered her office with out asking. She had been taking a break from fighting with the Systems that made her forgetful and sluggish because of how dysfunctional they currently were.

"Something is wrong with the Ship; the more I repair it, the more it seems to break and I can't find the source of the issues." The Cyborg said, she had her eyes closed. "The Ship does not respond to me, therefor I have to find the faults manually which gives them more time to spread."

"Is letting the spread a bad thing? Can'tcha just fix them later on?" The Marshal said, leaning against one of the walls her office.

"This ship is made with highly dangerous toxins, more dangerous than the ones in a vulture. If everything does not run perfectly it can start a chain reaction of explosions, freezing, loss of pressure, and other such things."

"You sayin' this is just a time bomb just waitin' occur?" The Cyborg nodded once. "What happens if we get shot at?"

"In top condition, this Ship can withstand an immense amount of damage with out any system failure. This was a main weapon of war back when the Confederacy was still clawing for power."

"She's that old?"

"No, this was one of the main deceive factors of their coming into power. The Ship wasn't built until the very end of the wars." The Cyborg stated, swinging around so that she was now facing him. Her eyes were still closed though.

"Then how did she end up here?"

"The old Adjutant retired."

"You guys can do that?" The Marshal sounded incredulous.

The Cyborg cracked open an eye. "Yes, once we become too outdated to be useful. Anyways, after the old Adjutant left, it hasn't been the same for the Ship. It still misses her greatly, I hardly fill the gap that was left."

"The Ship misses her?"

"Of course."

"But she's a hunk of machinery."

"I happen to be just 'a hunk of machinery' as well." The Cyborg stated, "Yet I have a personality."

"That's different Kitti." James said with a laugh, "You're were once completely terran; of course you have a personality. This ship has only ever been a metal husk filled with wires."

"And people." she said, straightening in her chair. "Terrans have this ridiculous idea that 'inanimate' things don't have a soul. Almost all ghosts, phantoms, specters, poltergeists are based off of residual energy worn into floors, keyboards, walls, chairs, doors. Every person gives a ship like this its personality."

"What are you sayin'?"

"That the Ship isn't without a soul." She sighed, rubbing her shoulders trying to rid herself of a dull ache that had settled in.

"Meanin' what? What gender is the Ship?"

"Just because it has a soul doesn't mean that it has a gender. But it would both, it's very protective of certain things and people, but it has a tendency to be vain and complain about things. Once being the Flagship for the Confederacy did nothing for it's modesty." She said, closing her eyes again.

James laughed at her words, "So we're stuck on a ship that likes to look pretty?"

"And will lock you out of getting from place to place if you make it mad at you." Kathrine let out a moan, "Goodness James, that feel fantastic."

He chuckled, "What can I say, I'm good with my hands." Kathrine leaned into his touch as he started to massage her shoulders. She made a please noise, "Just watch out for my-"

"Don't worry, I know about your wires." James smiled as she slumped as he worked one of her harder knots. "God Darlin', this ship thing must really be upsetting you; you're rock hard." Kathrine merely groaned.

Suddenly there was a beep from the computer. The Cyborg straightened, pulling away from James. "I'm needed, you should go." She said, not making eye contact with the Marshal.

"If ya say so darlin'." The Marshal said, "Just don't stay up all night again. It's not good for you, and you do need to eat, you've already missed lunch."

"Of course." The Cyborg said.

"See ya." The Marshal said with a smile. The Cyborg nodded and waited for him to leave before slipping off her wig and quickly connecting to the Systems.

"Commander?" The Cyborg asked as soon as she was sure that the line was private.

"Ah yes, how is the construction going." The Cyborg mind froze, she had only done the preliminary work that she had done the week before.

"No work has been done on the PsiEmitters since last you asked, the malfunctioning about the ship has taken precedent." The Cyborg said. "Without a fully functional ship, attempting to build something as volatile as a PsiEmitter would be inadvisable."

"We need at least a prototype by the end of the week. Otherwise out research department might be... discredited."

"I understand, sir. I will get to work promptly."

"I expect results asap." the Commander said, not sounding pleased with her. With that, te line was dropped. The Cyborg was left, brain buzzing a bit hollowly as the Ship growled at her. Then it was silent, no whirs or grinds to break the silence that was smothering the Ship.

The Cyborg disconnected from the Systems, the feeling of being alone settling even before she was fully apart. A shiver ran down her spine; her muscles jumped. The Cyborg smoother a hand down her arm before she stood up. The Cyborg slid on her wig, and, even though it was barely 4pm, left the office.

She walked down the halls of the Ship, running a hand along the all so that the Ship could feel her. Nevertheless, the Cyborg still had to open the doors manually as apposed to the ship opening it for her. The Cyborg didn't mind, this was how every other Terran worked.

The Cyborg entered the dining hall, not used to entering this area of the Ship so early in the day. It was surprisingly busy for the time of day; people sat and chatted while others bustled about cleaning, moving tables, and preparing food for dinner. The Cyborg knew she had missed lunch by a long while even before she had entered the hall. Yet despite the fact that now she could feel te pangs of hunger starting to affect her because of her disassociation with the Ship, the Cyborg still looked at the organized chaos with a hint of a smile.

"Oh Ducky, move over , will you love?" The Cyborg moved to the side as a larger woman who was obviously a rescued colonist bustled past her, arms laden with bundles of vegetables. As the Cyborg watched, the topmost bundle wobbled and fell.

The Cyborg righted herself from the crouch she had assumed, the bundled held lightly in the palm of her hand. The woman flushed, a light pink tint covering her dark skin. "Ah thanks dear, you mind carrying that to the table?" The Cyborg nodded, not really sure how to respond to the large woman. The Cyborg followed the woman silently to a table, then helped her unload the vegetables onto the surface.

"The name's Elizabeth Jones. And you, duck?"

"Kathrine Seline, 2nd Lieutenant-" The Cyborg started.

"I don't need your rank, duck. You came here for food?" She didn't wait for a response. "You're a bit late, but if you help out I'm sure we can find something around this place." The woman said, roller up er sleeves. "I take it you were delayed fro your lunch break?"

Again the woman didn't not wait for the Cyborg to respond,she had pulled out two safety blades from an internal pocket of her apron. She handed one to the Cyborg who held it daintily. "Pity, with you being a what, second lieutenant? We knew something was up when we were ordered to make rations, but now they've got lieutenants pissing meals! We only have three hours to get through all of you, you would think that they'd find the time to feed at least the officers!"

Elizabeth was chopping away madly, copper hair flung over one shoulder as the vegetables met their fate by her hands. The Cyborg awkwardly started to chop the plants. The woman clucked and started to tell the Cyborg how to correctly chop the vegetables. "Honestly, what do they teach in the military? If every cook were to die you would not know what to do with yourselves!"

The woman proceeded to alternately rant and chatter at the Cyborg. Soon enough the vegetables were chopped to perfection. The Cyborg helped carry them back to the kitchen were they were dumped into a pot immediately, all the while Elizabeth chattered away happily. "Now love, let's see what we can round up for you!"

The man whisked the Cyborg away, insistent chatter continuing. "Now what I don't understand is how many mechs there are about. You would think that the Confederacy would have gotten rid of them, but the are everywhere! There's this one woman, a Miss Lauren Fitts, prettiest red hair you will ever see, almost completely mech, and she looks as normal as you and me! They are infiltrating the pure people!"

The two people had reached was traditionally the serving area "Oh hello, sweetheart! Hi mum!" the man, who had given the Cyborg the cookie from the night before, looked up from the dishes he was washing. "You hungry, doll? I know the old girl's been acting up. That can hardly be easy on you!"

"You're a repair woman, ducky?" The woman said, looking surprised.

"No, mum. She's the ship's brain!" The server said with a smile. "She's fantastic at her job, keeps things running without a hitch. This is the first time anything has gone wrong since she came aboard." He pulled out a dish, drying it with the flick of her wrist.

"Now doll, you hungry? I know the ship's not the best at letting you eat lunch. Can't promise much, but something simple is perfectly doable." The server was ignoring his mother who was looking at the Cyborg as if she was seeing her for the first time. The server gestured for them to follow him. They retreated into a back room,

"You're a mech?" The woman finally sputtered, in an accusing tone.

The Cyborg looked at the woman in a confused manor. "If you mean tat I am a Cybernetic Being, then yes. I do not know of this 'mech' of which you speak of."

There was a stunned silence as the color drained from the woman's face. The Cyborg didn't seem to notice the woman's change in attitude as the server came out of the back room with a small package in his hands. Then Elizabeth found her voice, "You're dirty. You are contaminated, God did not make you that way."

"No, He didn't. But He did make me so that I would live like this." The Cyborg said, taking the package from the server who smiled apologetically. "Thank you. Good day." With that, the Cyborg turned and left the dining area.

God had never really bothered the Cyborg; lime most Terran things, religion hadn't caught her interest. Being told that a superior Being had made her one way or other didn't bother her, nor did being told that it was bad in said Being's eyes. On the other hand, Mech did.

Being called a Mech or a Mechanical, was not a polite term by any stretch of the imagination. It was very rare that she was actually called a mech, even though she was the most heavily mechanized person currently on the ship. Yet it was not something that the Cyborg believed she should have to deal with. Usually the understanding that upsetting her ended up having most of the computerized things near by not respond, kept the Cyborg under the radar for verbal attacks, yet, even as she ran a hand down the Ship's wall, the Cyborg knew that there was no Ship to take shelter within.

She let the hand on the wall drop to her side as the unrelenting silence pressed in on her from every side. The Cyborg clenched her fist, the motion making her hand shake. Then she slowly unclenched it, standing up even straighter than before. There was work to be done, the Cyborg told herself, she could feel offended later on. Instead of going down the hall she usually went down, the Cyborg turned left, heading to the hall where her room was situated. Tools were needed to make the PsiEmitter, tools that were sitting under her bed, where she had placed it when she had first moved in. The Cyborg smiled; she didn't understand Terrans, but Machines she got, and building something as intricate as a PsiEmitter would be just the thing to get her mind off of things.

**_FYI: Yes, I am a GIRL. _Get over it. Really, it's not that cool... But bowties are cool... (anyone, really? No?)  
**

**You know that thing called a life? Yeah, it's really trying to get me to pay attention to it. Long story short, I now have two guys who have taken a fancy to me, mood rings are AMAZING, Mom's are difficult, and Drumline HURTS (been playing for 2 days, I've already got bruises :D).**

**So my past two days have sucked, I mean, crying, not eating, stressed out, godIwishIcouldeat, stupid days. No, no details, but I would love to be cheered up. You know what would make me smile? Reviews. I don't often ask for them, but it does actually help me think about what I'm writing. DUDES, I CAN SEE THAT YOU ARE READING MY STUFF! Don't pretend that you aren't, because there are stats. TELL ME WHAT TO WORK ON!**

**And this chapter? That does happen, obviously not with mechs, but with other terms. :s**

**PS. I thrive on chaos, so don't worry to much about a stop in production, I write all the time in my book, its finding time to move all the info here that is the real killer.**

**PPS. Actual word count is (whole story) 18606 and (this chapter) 2449.  
**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

The room, in retrospect, had never been this disorganized. Wires were strewn about, tangled together in large piles, small parts of metal littered the ground, and the room smelled of burning. A low whistle was the only reaction to all the disorder, then whispered curse. In the midst of all the chaos, the woman breathed softly, arms forming her pillow.

Stepping lightly over the wreckage, he made his way to the woman. He touched her shoulder, "Kitti, you gotta wake up, the Doc's lookin' for you." An incoherent mumble met his words. He let out a puff off annoyance, "Kathrine... I don't want to have to order you to get you to wake up."

Another mumble, but this time a hand reached up to brush disheveled hair out of her face. Asleep, the woman was beautiful, pale complexion with angular features, expression calm and not confused. A hint of a smile played across her lips; she was the one thing that was peaceful in the room. The Man sighed not wanting to wake her up. A prod later, the beauty was hidden.

The Cyborg snapped awake, grabbing a tool in the means of a weapon. She stared at the Marshal for a few seconds, eyes unfocusing and refocusing. Then she grabbed her head in her hands, letting out a soft breath of discomfort. "You okay, Kitti?" James put a hand on her shoulder.

"I've..." the Cyborg started, "pinched a wire." She shook her head as if to clear it. The Cyborg straightened again, "What did you want?"

"The Doc wants you. He saw me in the hall and asked me to find you. Any reason you are sleeping in here as apposed to your room?" James held out a hand to her as she stood up, she grabbed it as she wobbled.

"I was building that." She said, point at a rather large contraption that was leaning against the wall in a corner. "I was finishing the control panel when I must have fallen asleep."

"What is it?" James said, giving the device a one over. He looked down at the Cyborg to find her shaking. "Woah, you sure you're okay? You don't look so hot."

The Cyborg opened her mouth and no sound came out. The Marshal sighed, realizing that whatever was going on with her wasn't trivial."Good thing the Doc wants you. Come on, I don't trust you to walk." He lent down and picked her up. The door to the outside slid open as soon as the Marshal neared it. People in the halls moved out of the way as the Marshal made his way, the Cyborg shaking in his arms.

"Commander, she's not responding to me either, there's nothing I can do to get her online. No, no sir. If you haven't noticed this ship is starting to fall apart at the seams." The Doctor was leaning over his com, gripping the edge of his desk so hard that his hands were shaking. "I have sent out someone to find her, Commander."

"Doc? I've got her." The Marshal said, not bothering knocking. The Doctor cut the connection, gesturing to the Marshal to put her on the table. The Doctor moved about the Cyborg with efficiency, taking her pulse, checking her blood, poking at wires, and all the while the Cyborg shook. The Marshal made to leave, "Wait, I need your help."

"Doc, I'm hardly trained-"

"Just do something with this." The Doctor said, handing the Marshal the Cyborg's wig. He looked at the object in his hand with a bit of confusion, before lightly placing it on the desk. The Marshal returned back to where the Cyborg lay, her body quivering and face contorted into an expression that was unmistakeably pain. The Cyborg eyes her closed, brow furrowed as the Doctor ran a hand down her left shoulder blade. The Doctor looked up to meet the gaze of the Marshal. "Hold her hand, this is going to hurt."

The Marshal grabbed the Cyborg hand, her small palm vanishing into his fist. He interlaced his fingers with her, running his thumb down the side of her hand. There was a crack from the Cyborg's shoulder and pain flooded the Marshal's hand. "Shit!" The Marshal hissed, his free fist clenching.

The Doctor poked at the Cyborg's shoulder, which stuck out at a funny angle. He pushed wires which bulged out under the skin down. The flesh underneath squelched. The Doctor grabbed the Marshal's free hand and pressed it down into the soft skin to keep the wires in place.

"Again, this is going to hurt." The Doctor said with a half smile. A pop later and the Marshal was biting his own lip as the Cyborg squeezed his hand. The Cyborg and the Marshal let out pained puffs of air, as the Doctor continued on his search of her body.

The Cyborg's breath evened out, but her body still quivered, muscles tensing rapidly. The Doctor traced every wire as the Marshal watched silently, still clasping the Cyborg's hand. The Doctor let out a low whistle. "I think I've found the main problem."

"What's stopping you them?" The Marshal said with an exasperated tone.

"It's a difficult fix."

"If she recovers, does it matter?"

"You are hardly her doctor, Captain Raynor, nor are you her significant other, or family member. Cyborgs are not like normal people; they don't heal as well, neither do they take kindly to change. I don't know what will happen to her if what I try to do does not work."

A silence dragged on. The Marshal still holding the Cyborg's hand staring at the Doctor, the Doctor was staring at the Cyborg while the Cyborg lay, body now rigid. Then the Doctor sighted, running a hand down his face.

"Nothing can be helped. I would ask you to leave, but as it is, the Commander is looking for you." The Doctor went over the the sink, 'Please inform the Command that the older version of the Lieutenant will be running, he shouldn't worry though, the artificial adjutant is quite reliable."

The Marshal slowly let go of the Cyborg's small hand and left eh room. He walked out of the infirmary. James like the Cyborg and the people on board the ship were pleasant enough. The ship itself was nice if not breaking down, but he couldn't shake the feeling that everything was a bit off. He understood that there was more to the Cyborg than she was allowed to show, but he also got the feeling that she wouldn't let anyone in even if she could.

"Raynor, you are requested at the helm." His head snapped up, Lauren Fitts stood, face impassive. "You must've pissed off Kathrine a lot if your com isn't work, usually the Ship doesn't block off communications like that."

"What do you mean?" The woman looked him over with her gray eyes.

"No one could reach your coms, any of them. Meaning, the Ship's pissed at you; that, or you are bugged. Now, I've got a set of wiring that is completely mucked up and I need to go fix it, I was just the only person who could find you, the rest of them were all 'too busy' to go looking, and since I'm the one with a tracker, it was up to me."

She turned on her heel, red hair whipping around in it's long plait. "Wait." The Marshal reached out and touched her shoulder, "I still don't understand. How would I be bugged, and what the hell is a tracker?"

"I don't know, I'm not trusting anyone on this ship, neither should you, at least not the ghosts. They are good at getting in your heads, why should they not be good at getting into your technology?" Fitts said, turning to face him with an unamused look. "And a tracker? I can feel your pulse through the little bits of tech you have on, from there I can pinpoint where you are. Now really, I have to leave, and you should go to the helm."

He nodded, removing his hand from her shoulder. She turned again, walking off in the opposite direction. The Marshal watched her go before letting out a short breath and heading off to the bridge. He could tell that he was late before the door to the helm opened, "Transmissions are heavily coded, but wait, here's something."

The first thing the Marshal noticed was the fact the voice was slightly lower and the wording was nothing like what the Cyborg would use. He entered the room, looking at the assembled group, the Commander was standing facing the windows, back facing the Marshal, the Ghost leaned against a wall, flipping a knife absentmindedly, and Mengsk stood facing the holographic adjutant, looking very much the part of a rebel leader.

"This is General Duke calling from Alpha Squadron Flagship Norad II! We've crash-landed and are being hit hard by the Zerg! Request immediate backup from anyone receiving this signal! Repeat, this is a priority one distress call-"

The Marshal scoffed, "Zerg? Here? Serves 'em right. 'Bout time they got a taste of what it's like to be in there mixin' it up." Mengsk shot a glance to the Ghost before addressing the Marshal. Mengsk's words made James's hackles raise, "I'm positive I didn't hear that right."

The protests of the assembled people went unheard. "I'm not asking you to like it. I'm asking you to do it." The Marshal shot the Ghost a look as Mengsk left the room.

"Out of my head, Darlin', I don't need you prodding, I've got enough goin' on already." The Ghost blinked at him, tossing her knife high into the air one final time before vanishing into the background. The artificial adjutant made a whirring noise.

"So this is what we're stuck with if Kathrine doesn't get fixed?" The Marshal said to no one in particular.

"Correct, sir." The adjutant said.

"No offense sweetheart, I hope we don't get left with you." The Marshal said with a half smile, half grimace.

Mean while in the infirmary, the Doctor was helping his patient sit up. "I found the problem."

Blue eyes searched his brown for a minute. "What would that be?"

"You."

**_FYI: My computer is dying, my J, H, Y, and K keys are missing, if you see them gone, I haven't caught them while typing. _Yes, I should edit, but I usually don't see errors until 6 months - 1 year later.**

**Yes, I actually am alive. Barely. I've been juggling fighting being sick, life, Valentine's Day, Drumline, life finding a flapper dress, and life. Did I mention life? I actually had something construcive to say on here, but I forgot it...**

**As for updates, I can't promise them being any more regular. Hi, my name's Grey, I'm in drumline (AKA winter percussion), we're 2 weeks away from competition and that means next week is HELL WEEK (practice every night, 5-7).**

**Valentine's day! It was great! I'm one of those nerds who loves it! I had 5 valentines, 4 girls, 1 guy (he was whining about not having a girlfriend, so I made him a Sucks to be Single Cd). I made the girls jewelry and one of them a Tardis. Yes, a tardis. It was quite amazing. And it had 2 hearts. (Don't know what I'm talking about, WATCH DOCTOR WHO NOW!)**

**Random fact time: I see James as a person who will flirt with pretty much everything that seems to be female. Kinda like me, except I'm just friendly with everyone. So if he's too "darlin' & sweetheart" keep in mind, those can be used with sarcasm so easily.**

**Chapter WC: 1752**

**Story WC: 20357 (Yay!)  
**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

Saying that the Norad II would not last long against the Zerg was an understatement, yet saying that anything would last long against the Zerg was an understatement. The creatures were ruthless to say the least and fast. On a vulture bike, nothing could catch the Marshal, or that's how things used to be, Raynor reflected as he swung into base his bike sporting a large scratch. The steering was shot, he could tell that much, but beyond that he had no idea how bad the damage to his bike was. He muttered a curse at the Zerg for wrecking his bike, the second time in his life he had been caught while on a vulture.

"You're bleeding." The Marshal looked at the mechanic who was giving his bike a one over. The mechanic wasn't even looking at him, but at a large spot of blood that covered the handle bars.

"That's Zerg blood, not mine." the Marshal said dismissively.

"No, that's human. Zerg blood is corrosive against this type of metal." the man said, "You better get yourself checked up."

"By who?" The Marshal said. There wasn't a single field medic around, or possibly on the battle field.

The mechanic shrugged, "I dunno, but your bike should be fixed in a jiffy." The Marshal nodded, looking over himself for the source of the blood. He let out a hiss as he saw the cut on his knee, it didn't seem to be too deep, but was bleeding profusely. He sat down, reaching for his flask. He unscrewed the cap and took a gulp before dumping most of the rest its contents on his wound. He winced as the fluid hit the open wound.

"Bike's finished." The Marshal nodded at the mechanic. He swung onto his bike and headed out again. The forces were almost to the Norad II; it could just be seen over the looming zerg structures. The Marshal slid up his visor as a zerg building exploded under the rapid fire. Even with the air filters built into his armor the stench of the zerg blood still filled his nostrils. It was better to have a dead zerg, than a live zerg, no matter how bad the smell was.

There was the sound of air support tearing through the sky above him and another zerg building fell. He kicked his bike into action and tore off following them. A quickly dropped spider mine distracted the zerg so that he could swing down into the small valley where the Norad II had crashed. The Marshal shot a zergling, killing it in one hit, before kicking the vulture into reverse. He backed between two bunkers which were being destroyed faster than they were being repaired. Raynor shot down another zergling before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a flare gun. He shot a flare right into the jaws of an approaching zerg, causing the creature to burn from the inside then how one into the air.

"Flares up." The Marshal barked into his comm.

"The barges are on their way, keep the air clear." The Marshal grunted an acknowledgment as a hydralisk started to attack him. Soldiers poured out of the bunkers as one exploded and the other one caught of fire. "Clear the air!" The Marshal yelled over the roar of fire. The groan of engines was heard as a Goliath sidled up and started blasting zerg out of the sky. The unholy rain of splattered alien bodies drenched the surrounding area in the redish brown blood of the zerg. The Marshal gagged at the stench of the substance.

Tired, sore, and now pissed off, the Marshal grinned as two dropships roared over head. They landed, letting loose a group of mechanics and medics. Immediately, they set to work, finding soldiers, fixing vehicles and buildings. That's when the comm link opened, "You're about the last folks I expected to show up. What's your angle here, Mengsk?" Said General Edmund Duke.

"Our angle?" The Marshal snapped, "I'll give you an angle you slimy Confederate piece of sh-"

"Jim, enough! I'll handle this." The Marshal would have flipped Mengsk if he hadn't been on the Hyperion hundreds of miles above him. He turned off his bike as more reinforcements were dropped off and allowed himself to slouch down against the handle bars of his bike. He remained silent through the rest of conversation, until finally he couldn't contain his disgust. "I can't believe you're really going to trust this snake!"

"Don't worry, Jim. He's our snake now." He sighed, gripping the handle of his bike and sitting up. More dropships came and went as clean up crews, reinforcements, doctors, and other such people were dropped off. The ships left with the wounded and their doctors, but not the Marshal. It was his job to make sure that everyone involved got on and off relatively unharmed, because he was an officer. Not for the first time, the Marshal regretted having a position of power. Being a marshal had been bad enough; now that he was technically a captain, his work load had doubled.

"James, your dropship is going to leave with out you." The Marshal snapped up, banging his head against someone's chin with a sharp crack.

"Damn, are you okay?" The Marshal rubbing his head as the beginning of a headache flared up. His eyes widened and he blinked a few times before slumping back down onto his arms. "Shit Kitti, you've gotta damn sharp chin. What the hell are you doing on the field?"

She blinked at him as if he was a little bit slow. "The Norad II is in need of repairs, I'm here to outline what exactly needs to be fixed. We need to get this ship flying and off this planet as soon as possible before the zerg return or the Confederacy shows up. I happen to be an expert when it comes to the workings of a battlecruiser." The Cyborg stated matter-of-factly. "Now you need to go, or you'll be left here until we are done with the repairs which may take a while."

James blinked a few times, not seeming to register what she had said. Her shoulders slumped slightly. She nudged him back so that she could slip onto the vulture in front of him. She wrapped his arms around her waist making sure he was holding on tightly. The bike switched on, and the two people on it went up out of the valley to where one lone dropship sat waiting.

When the vulture pulled into the dropship, the Cyborg disentangled herself from the Marshal who was still blinking trying to get his eyes to focus. She turned to the medic who had rushed to the Marshal's side. "I fear I may have accidentally given him a concussion. Oh, and would you please tell him when he's coherent again that his bike is in need of a serious tune up, it's a miracle that it can still run. Thank you."

With that the Cyborg left the dropship and the dropship took off. The Cyborg turned, walking back to where the Norad II lay, damaged beyond what would be sensible to repair. The Cyborg went over to the small command station was, it was time to work.

**Ahhh! Leave me alone! (Hides under desk) I understand it been more than three weeks. Stop messaging me about it! Gaaah! Can I say I have good reason? Flu, drumline, midterms next week (Eek!), drumline, hell week, band concert, exchange students, drumline, mom got a new job, drumline, loosing all my make up, a pair of shoes, and some of my meds, did I mention drumline? I know, I know, none of that has ever stopped me before.**

**May I say I hate this chapter with a passion? Nothing of it feels right to me, but I honestly can't find a way to fix it. Yeah, I can't write battles worth beans, not even those gross canned beans. (I understand nutbread, I like nutbread, but beans on toast? Really?)**

**Oh yeah! Drumline! We lost to frickin' Bert and Ernie! At least we got 4th, not 5th. But still, second to last place... not cool man! But people liked my Ron Weasley shirt and skull pajama bottoms.**

**Yeah, so I have the flu. If there are horrible mpisleilgns in it, I will edit this chapter when I'm not calling someone a glutinous queen instead of a gluttonous queen. Or trying to spell blue with a W. That being said, good night. I hope to write more after this stuff clears up.**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

Pain was one of those things that she could proudly say she wasn't that susceptible to. She never suffered from the common aches and pains of daily life, she never suffered from hurt feet, stubbed toes, the likes. Most of her nervous system had been damaged when she had been originally remodeled all those years ago, not that she could remember it, and now wires had replaced where nerves should have been. That being said, the Cyborg ached all over. It probably had something to do with the fact that she had spent a good deal of the day crouched in awkward positions or hanging from places to get at hard to reach areas in need of intricate repairs.

The Cyborg sat slumped against the table, ignoring everyone's conversation. For the first time since her reprogramming, she actually had no interest in being polite or courteous. She didn't want to deal with people, she wanted to go to her room and sleep, not work, not write reports, just sleep. She felt more than heard someone sit down next to her. Sending out a mental curse, the Cyborg flopped her head to the side to see someone's arm. Opening her eyes further she saw James staring down at her.

"Hey Darlin'." He said softly, "You feelin' okay?" The Cyborg shrugged flopped her head back down. "Kitti." James' tone took on a warning tone.

"I hurt." The Cyborg mumbled.

"And?"

"And I'm tired." She said, shooting James what might have been a glare if she had had enough energy to glare.

"Then why don't you go to bed?"

"I can not." The Cyborg stated, she sat up, something in her back popping. "My roommate has made it clear she does not appreciate my presence."

"You've lived there for a lot longer than she has. Who's she?"

"Sarah Kerrigan, first lieutenant." The Cyborg replied.

"Oh. I understand." The Cyborg nodded once, then she slouched. "Ya sure you're okay?"

"I merely dislike the menial task of repairing the Norad II, it is a primitive and not an engaging task. If the Commander, Mengsk, and Duke decided that I could scrap the Norad II and create a new, if not slightly smaller ship, then I might actually enjoy the work." The Cyborg said.

"Woah, Kitti, anymore of that and people might think ya have a bit of an attitude problem." The Cyborg stiffened, back straightening. He shot her a glance. "Don't worry, I'm just kidding, you're tired, I shouldn't have teased ya." He wrapped an arm around her waist.

She slowly relaxed. "Has your scratch healed?"

"Good as new." James said with a grin. "Thanks for askin'. Is what ever was wrong with you the other day cleared up?"

"We know what the problem is, but have yet to found a repair. It's also the reason that I'm out fixing the Norad II. Until I can safely function, I'm not supposed to access the Ship or the mainframes."

"No wonder you're not feelin' well." James said looking down at her.

She shrugged again, "There have been side effects of not being connected, but nothing bad enough to make connection necessary. I find that I am more tired and less considerate of people."

"Less considerate, what did ya do? Not say please?" She shot him another lackluster semi-glare, before slumping against his shoulder. She mumbled something that sounded roughly like, "Something to that effect." They fell into silence as James proceeded to eat his dinner one handedly.

"Kitti?" James said, trying to nudge her awake. "Kathrine?" He sighed, looking down at her sleeping form, something wasn't right with her, that was for sure. He continued to eat, pondering what to do with the sleeping Cyborg.

When the Cyborg, the first thing she noticed was she was not in her own room. The second thing was that she was not alone. The third thing was that it was not the usual soft breathing of her roommate, but snoring. The Cyborg snapped awake, sitting up with a short gasp. She looked around in the darkness, eyes not being able to see anything. She tried to access the Ship, but found nothing.

The Cyborg felt panic capture her, she started to shake. She was alone, the Ship didn't recognize her. The snoring that had been filling the room stopped, the Cyborg felt a hand touch her arm. "Kathrine? You okay?"

"Where am I?" She asked, voice sounding small.

"In my room, the Ship's havin' a bitch fit, didn't let me take you to your room. Are you okay?" James asked again. The Cyborg shook her head slowly. "I'm takin' that as a no." The bed shifted as he sat up, his other hand found her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The Cyborg bit her lip, feeling it quiver. "I... I don't know. I can't access the Ship."

"I know, darlin', you've told me."

She shook her head, "It is not just that. I can't _feel _the Ship."

"It's okay." He murmured.

"N-no, you don't understand!" She pulled away from him, folding her knees to her chest. "I know it is there, it right here, we are on it. But I can't feel it, there is nothing, nothing out there. No groaning, no grinding, no gears turning, I can't feel the Ship's life. It's just... just..."

"Lonely." James said, pulling her back to him. "It's gotta be lonely."

"How would you know?" It wasn't accusing, merely tired and small.

"Darlin', I've been locked up before, without anything but myself as company. No signs of life, other than myself. It's scary as hell. But trust me, you are not alone. I'm right here."

There was something resembling a sniffle from the Cyborg. "Your IQ is merely average, how can you be so smart?" She ask, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

James looked at her, then laughed when he saw the sincerity in her eyes. "Kathrine, if you were anyone else, I would be offended. But thanks, I guess you could say I have had a lot of life experience. Maybe I'm just like that."

She grinned at that, the expression lighting up her whole face. James laughed again, smiling back at her. He hugged her close and, for once, she didn't stiffen, but relaxed into him.

"Ya know what's going to happen tomorrow."

She searched his eyes. "No, what?"

"They are all going' to think think we..." He let the sentence hang.

"We... what?" she asked again blinking at him.

"We.. well.. slept together."

"We have slept together." She stated.

"As in sex, Kitti." She stared at him for a few seconds before it sunk in.

"Oh." She squeaked, hiding her face in her hands. "But... but we didn't!"

James laughed again, pulling her hands away from her face. "I'm glad I warned you. But don't worry, I'll make sure to tell them you were good. Shit!"

"Oh goodness, I didn't mean to!" He laughed again

"Where's you learn to hit? You have no idea what you are doing." She looked at him quizzically as he rubbed his jaw. "It doesn't matter, go back to sleep Kitti. It's late, or early."

She settled back down, feeling a bit awkward with the Marshal been right there. Then he spoke, "Good night Kitti."

"Good night, James." Kathrine said with a smile.

When James woke up the next morning, he was alone. He yawned, sat up, and noticed the note that was placed on the bedside table in perfectly formed letters. He glanced over it, not really reading it, before changing and leaving the room.

The door slid ope and the Marshal entered, "Doc? What did you do to Kathrine? She's not being herself."

The Doctor looked up from the screen he had been looking at. "Ah, just the person I wanted to see. Please come in Raynor."

**I may have just made my life more interesting. But hey, only 13 more days. 13 more days, then I'm free. Yeah, yesterday I got up at 3am. I was competing by 8am, I was done by noon, and I was home by 4. I was stuck in the rain for hours upon hours, in a short flapper dress and strappy heels. I have cuts on my feet from them. I just love drumline. Yay.**

**Oh, and my friend life just got screwed over. Yeah, one of my friends is cutting. Another is pregnant. I love my life right now.**

**But all this stress and crap means one thing, my brain is liking to write. So yeah, I wrote most of this in one day. But I wasn't home from Tuesday to Saturday, part of what added to the stress. So off to go be a nervous wreck who is having a freak out and is _still_ sick. Until next time.**

**Oh yeah, another pointless chapter, the next one, I swear will have plot. At least, it hopefully will. Cheers.  
**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

They were all sitting around the table when she entered. Her hair was pulled into a tight knot on the back of her head, her usual uniform was traded out for a plain white dress shirt and cargo pants. She walked in, looking calm. She placed the items she was carrying on the table.

"You are late. I can't abide those who are late."

"Mengsk, you ordered to overlook the repairing of the Norad II, you cannot blame me for having the dropship being late. Though next time, feel free to leave, I will simply tell the information to who ever is present."

Mengsk narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. "Lieutenant Seline, if you would be so kind as to proceed with your presentation."

The Cyborg nodded, "Yes Commander." She looked at the three people. The Ghost sat, looking bored in one chair, while Mengsk was perched on a chair, leaning towards the Cyborg. The Commander was standing, one hand resting on the back of the chair he was supposed to vacating.

"The data disks that were obtained had to with the Confederacy's program for Psychically Gifted Humans."

"The Ghost Program, we know. I lived through it." The Ghost stated, giving the Cyborg a withering look.

"Yes, the Ghost Program. When the Ghost Program was first running, the first zerg were discovered."

"There are been zerg for that long?" It was the ghost again, she sounded skeptical.

'There is evidence that the zerg have been alive for roughly thirty years." The Cyborg said, glancing at the Ghost.

"How do you know this?"

The Cyborg looked over to Mengsk, ignoring the hard stare the Ghost was giving her. "The data disks we recovered had a lot of information. This is what we have deciphered thus far."

"How come I was not informed of this extra information?"

"I do not answer to you, Mengsk." The Cyborg stated, blinking once at him. "As I was saying, the Zerg research and the Ghost developments were very closely linked together. It was discovered that a Zerg Neural pattern is similar to a terran's. The similarities increase with the amount of psychic ability a terran possesses. A normal, only vaguely psycic terran, will merely register as meat, it still needs to be slaughtered, but only meat. a ghost on the other hand, is more of a threat. A ghost could take over territory the zerg as a unit claims for itself. A ghost is something to go out of the way to kill."

"When this was discovered in a rather bloody accident, the scientists realized the zerg could be used as a weapon of sorts. Their primal need to destroy what threatens them, or what gets in their way, is ruthless. It was agreed that if someone could use a ghost as a beacon to call zerg, mass damage could be achieved with out hands being stained. After a time, they invented the Transplanar Psionic Waveform Emitter, or psi-emitter, which is exactly what it sounds like. This device transmits a wave length with an imitation imprint of a powerful psionic being, ghost or other wise, across roughly ten billion kilometers."

"A psi-emitter crosses worlds." Mengsk stated, interrupting the Cyborg.

"Yes and no." The Cyborg replied. "As I was going to say, while it has the ability to project wavelengths for the stated distance, there has been a debate on compounded wavelengths. Does the use of more psi-emitters make the spread greater, therefor giving more area to attract the zerg, or does it merely make the wavelengths more frequent, in essence louder, meaning the zerg call for help."

Mengsk voice was quiet, but slowly rose in volume. "Why would it matter? All that matter is the zerg are here, the Confederacy lured them here, and our people are being slaughtered by not one, but two alien races because the Confederacy was experimenting on their pets!"

"If by pets you mean the zerg, experimenting is hardly the correct word the use." The Ghost blinked at her words, finally breaking the glare she had been subjecting the oblivious Cyborg to.

"What does that mean?" The Ghost asked in a low tone.

"Who cares what it mean! It does not change the fact of the matter." Mengsk snapped at the Ghost, he returned his attention to the Cyborg. "How soon can you have a psi-emitter operating?"

"This one will work with some basic construction." The Cyborg said, tapping one of the objects she had brought with her. "Your organization recovered this psi-emitter a while ago, I saw that in your archives. I unburried, and it just needs it's programming set."

"And that will take... how long?"

"Five minutes, but once it has been turned on, it can't be turned off unless completely destroyed." The Cyborg removed her hand from the device. "I could do it right now, but you would have hoards on Zerg upon this ship in an hour."

"Then you will have to assemble it on the field, we need to use their own weapon against them." Mengsk said, standing up to pace back and forth.

"No, she will not." The Commander spoke, cutting off whatever the Ghost was going to say.

"Why not?" Mengsk challenge.

"You seem to forget, she follows my orders alone. She is not loyal to your cause or you, only to me and those who I allow to order her. Not only would that go against what I stand for, I cannot afford to loose someone as irriplaceable as Lieutenant Seline." The Commander stated in a perfectly calm tone.

"This would be a major step in our goal of revolution and-"

"It does not matter, she is under my control. I will not allow her to be on the field of battle, her job is already dangerous enough," The Ghost scoffed at that, the Commander looked at the Ghost and Mengsk, "and that is final. Lieutenant Seline, you are dismissed, I want you in my office in an hour to talk."

The Cyborg nodded. She gathered the psi-emitter and made to leave.

"Is there any way we can use the psi-emitter?" Mengsk asked, catching the Cyborg by the arm.

The Cyborg removed her arm from his grip. "I will teach one person how to program the psi-emitter, if that is alright with the Commander, the person will be of my choosing. That is the only way, psi-emitters were made for one time uses, at least, emitters that cover this range. Now, if you will excuse me, I have previous engagement."

She left the room, fleeing from the room as soon as she knew no one could see her. The Cyborg entered her office, letting the door slide shut behind her. She clutched the emitter to her chest and collapsed against the wall. She let loose a shaky breath, rubbing at her head, which was throbbing painfully.

The Cyborg pulled away from the wall, stand up and crossing over to her desk. She opened one of the drawers and placed the emitter into it. She slid the drawer shut, locking it with a push of a button. She sighed and left the room. It didn't take her long to get to the infirmary.

"Kathrine, why are you here?" The Cyborg turned to see the Doctor.

"I am sorry, I know it's your break, but my head hurts." She stated. "I can't think of anything that would have caused it, I have had no contact with extreme amounts of electricity and I am not low on physical energy. It's like someone is trying to get inside my head and it hurts."

The Doctor sighed, offering his arm for her to take. "Come on, I need to eat, I'll see what I can do though." She took his arm hesitantly and they left.

"Who have you been dealing with today?" The Doctor asked.

"I just came from a meeting with the Commander, Lieutenant Kerrigan, and Mengsk. But other than that, it just the people who usually talk to me." The Cyborg stated.

"You happen to share a room with the Lieutenant, right?"

"Yes, but we barely make contact, I wake up much earlier than she does."

"You don't get a headache normally when around her."

"Not usually. I get a slight ache, but it is nothing out of the ordinary. It is merely my withdrawal from the Ship's Systems."

The Doctor stopped walking, "Withdrawal from the Ship should not effect you that way. Behavioral differences, certainly, but not physical pain. When did this pain start?"

"It's been omnipresent for a while. Yet it is nothing to be alarmed about. It is just the stress of everything that has been going on."

"And what exactly do you mean by 'everything'?"

"The alliance the Commander formed with the Sons of Korhal, the Protoss and the Zerg, the dysfunction of the Ship, the confusion of the people." The Cyborg stated. "These are all situations that I am not accustom to dealing with." The Doctor made a noncommittal noise and they continued on their way.

"You do know that the receptors that would make you able to experience a headache have been damaged beyond repair and tey cannot transmit pain."

"I have comprehended that."

"And while there are emergency signals, they only work in case of emergencies. You are not hurt and while what has occurred is stressful, it would not cause you to have a headache."

"The only other option is not possible, I have not been within the systems for eleven days, fourteen hours, and eighteen minutes, and the amount of psyonic power required to access my cerebral cortex is inhuman. Ergo, it has to be from stress." The Cyborg said calmly.

"You don't have all the files of everyone on this ship, an untrained civilian or even a trained or even a trained serviceman could be trying to pick your brain. We don't know all the information; you know of the theory that I have."

"The theory you have procured are absolutely inconceivable. With the odds of it being true, it would be more probable that you would find a peaceable zerg."

The Doctor scoffed, "That can occur?"

"Of course, to the best of our knowledge the zerg as a species have share three brains; an individual brain, a colony brain, and a master brain. As long as both the master brain and colony brain do not prohibit it, the individual brain decides to not be violent There hasn't been a recorded combination that has allowed such a being to be created yet, but there is a definite chance that it could occur."

"How do you know this?" The Cyborg opened her mouth to reply; closed it. Then she shrugged. "You don't know."

The Cyborg didn't give any sign of agreement. They had arrived at the Mess Hall. "I have to go, the Commander requested me in his office."

"Kathrine." The Doctor got a warning tone in his voice. "Just remember what I said, alright."

"Of course, thank you for your assistance." She said with a nod of her head. "I will see you later." With that, the Cyborg left, heading for the opposite end of the Ship, into the officer's quarters, a place where she had not been for any reason other than repair in that area.

She was off put by the idea of actually going into the office of the Commander, an event strictly prohibited by her programming, she was not supposed to actually know the identity of the Commander. The Cyborg glanced around the hall, knowing that she was, in fact, in the right place. She let out a puff of air and knocked on the door before opening it.

"There you are Lieutenant. Please come in and sit down. There is much that we need to discuss."

**This has been written for a while now. I sent it to my beta reader a while ago and he didn't reply... :P So it's unedited, I hope it's not too horrible. **

**I don't know how consistent my already inconsistent updates will be. I'm dealing with some stuff which I do not want to go into details about. I will try to write/update more often, but the reality is, this is the last of my priorities right now. But to make up for this delay this chapter is kinda long! Until next time, when ever that will be. ~Grey  
**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

Ultimately there wasn't much that could shock the Cyborg, she had always been a calm collected person who had thought up all the possibilities of what could happen before anything actually did. To actually shock the Cyborg required a lot unexpectedness. That being said, she was a bit shocked by what the Commander was asking her to do.

"I do not fully understand." She said bluntly.

"The idea is quite simple, your facade of forced cooperation is wearing thin, you have to give some useful information to them."

"That will endanger all of us."

"Actually, it will mostly endanger you, I'm sorry to say."

"I fully understand that." She replied, "What do I tell them?"

"That is up for you to decide." The Commander said. "Choose wisely. You are free to go." The Cyborg stood up, heading for the door. "Oh, one more thing, I order you to not obey any order given by Arcturus Mengsk unless I tell you to obey. Is that understood?" The Cyborg nodded once, hand resting on the control panel next to the door. "Good. You may go."

"Yes sir." The Cyborg stated, before exiting the room. She made her way out of the officer's quarters. She now had two dilemmas. The Cyborg paused in the hall way, pulling er hair out of the strict bun it had been in for the past few hours and let her hair fall down. She ran a hand through the black strands and placed the tie on her gloved wrist.

The took a deep breath in, relaxed her expression and headed off to her next destination. On her way there, she stopped by her room, taking off off the dress shirt and grabbing a old work shirt that was, once upon a time, white and pulling it on. She traded her nice gloves for a pair of worn leather ones. Then she continued on her way.

The machine shop was hot, sparks flew from people repairing, building, and upgrade various things that could be used in war. The Cyborg wound her way through the flames and burning metal, past people shouting to each other over the noise made by their tools. She knew exactly where she was going.

"What do you?" the voice was sharp, the Cyborg almost smiled at it.

"I wish to speak with you." The Cyborg spoke calmly.

"I haven't forgiven you for what you did. Leave."

The Cyborg shook her head, "The selection was made at random, I am sorry, but there was nothing I could do. I need to talk to you though."

"Why the hell would I want to talk to some murdering bitch like you?" The other woman scoffed.

The Cyborg let out a breath of air before replying. "Believe of me what you will, but know I was not the one who killed him. The Zerg did that. Now, I need to speak with you."

"I have to finish this, then maybe, if I have time, I'll permit you to talk to me."

"I am a higher ranking officer."

"Yeah? And I've always had an issue with authority. You're wasting your time, let me finish my job." The woman went back to the large machine. The Cyborg looked over the machine with appreciation.

"A Siege Tank, we don't have them within our system. This is newly salvaged is it not?" The Cyborg ran a hand up one of the wheels. "Your work is impressive, this is practically flawless."

"Practically?" The Mechanic stated, lifting an eyebrow.

"The only mistakes you made are from not having the correct tools and materials, no fault of your own."

There was a less than comfortable silence. "Thank you, I guess. But you're still wasting our time, if you wanna talk, let me work."

"May I help you? Would that complete the job sooner?" The Cyborg asked softly.

"You're an office rat, what would you know about building shit?" The Mechanic scoffed. The Cyborg blinked at her once then pulled her hair back up into a tight ponytail. She swung her self up onto the machine, grabbing one of the many tools from the Mechanic's tool belt.

"I was once quite good with building machines before..." Her expression fogged over. "Before... before I became, as you so eloquently put it, an 'office rat'."

The Mechanic smirked, "You mess up my work, I don't talk to you. You actually make yourself useful and don't ask questions, I'll talk." The Cyborg nodded once. They set to work in silence, both women working quickly and efficiently. It didn't take too long for there to be nothing for them to do until it was inspected by a foreman. The Mechanic wiped grease off her hands with a rag and gave the Cyborg a calculating look.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you." She said, tossing the rag to the Cyborg.

She caught the rag without removing her gaze from the Mechanic. She ran them over her cracked leather gloves "I hardly expect you to."

"So what is it that you want to talk about?" The Cyborg glanced around the machine shop, looking at the people working and listening to the sheer noise it contained.

"Come with me." The Cyborg stated. The Mechanic raised an eyebrow but followed anyways. They made their way out of the shop and back through the halls. They didn't speak, but walked briskly through the halls. The door to her office slid open with a hiss and both the Cyborg and the Mechanic stepped inside.

"I must apologize, I only own one chair."The Cyborg stated. She went over to her drawer and placed her hand on the reader. "I have been ordered to repair a Transplanar Psionic Waveform Emitter, which I have done for the most part."

"You need help repairing a whatever the hell you just said?"

"A Transplanar Psionic Waveform Emitter." The Cyborg provided. "Yes and no. I do know how to finish repairing this, yet I cannot turn it off once I fully repair it. This is a weapon of sorts, to be used on the field of battle."

"Yeah?" The Mechanic said, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. "And? Look, get to the point, I'm still technically on duty."

"I cannot go on the field of battle, I am, as you said, an office rat and the Commander has forbade it. I am going to teach you how to program this so that-"

"So that I can get put in danger instead of your precious ass? Like hell." The Mechanic turned to leave, but found that the door would not open for her. She turned as the drawer hissed open. The Cyborg placed the device on her desk.

"This," She said, looking not at the Mechanic but at the Emitter, "Is a Transplanar Psionic Waveform Emitter, or a psi-emitter. It, in it's most simplest terms, sends out a signal of a large threat to the Zerg. The Zerg go to attack the threat and end up where ever the emitter is. An emitter is what brought the Zerg to Mar Sara and the other colonies."

The Mechanic turned again, "I want nothing to do with it."

"Which is why I want you to be the one who fixes it." The Cyborg stated. "This has no programming, I am going to teach you how to program the emitter."

The Mechanic opened her mouth to object, "Maria, I do not want to do this any more than you do, but I have been ordered to teach you. I am sorry."

"But why me? I might tell other people." The Cyborg looked at the cybernetic woman.

"A hand, your left leg, your husband and only daughter, now Jason; that is what you lost to the Zerg. I do not think that you would bestow that fate to anyone else if you can do anything to prevent it."

"And yet you are asking me to do so?" the Mechanic hissed. "Tell me, what have you ever lost? What have you ever had to deal with every day and then go back to work for it? How could you ask me to condemn people to that fate? The Lady bring peace and love, but She also brings death. Karma, Seline, Karma."

"Orders." The Cyborg merely stated. "You are correct, I cannot remember if I have lost anything. I cannot comprehend the decision you are having to make."

"No, you can't." The Mechanic snapped. "And I'm sure you have all the corporate bullshit of this is for the greater good."

"It's not. It is to insure that this organization will survive."

"You don't know that."

"I have been informed that this is our best chance of survival."

The two women looked at each other. "Just so you know, I hate you." The Mechanic said. The Cyborg nodded once, "I'll do it."

**Bad chapter is bad. Stressful life is stressful. School is almost over though. And Fanime was amazing. Cheers.**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

The Cyborg woke up. It was, as always, quite dark and silent; the shallow breathing of her roommate was the only thing to be heard. She sat up as quietly as possible. She was able to get dressed without waking her irritable companion, but the door hissed as it opened.

"Where are you going? The stern voice said.

"Out." She stated.

"Why?"

There was a moments pause. "Something is not right, you can come with me if you do not believe me."

The Ghost moved off her bed, grabbing a pistol and her goggles. "Lead the way."

The Cyborg turned, walking into the hall. She made her way silently, feeling the onset of a headache appear. She waved her hand over one of the wall pads and a side panel opened. She beckoned the Ghost to follow her into the maintenance area.

The Marshal was wandering the halls. He was slightly buzzed from going drinking with a new acquaintance. He knew that he should be going to his room and sleeping, but he was restless. He wound his way from his room to the mess hall, to the machine shop, and back to his room, never entering any of the rooms. The halls were surprisingly empty for the time of night, so he was caught off guard when he saw the two figures walking down the halls.

"Kerrigan." She signaled him to be quiet and to follow him. Figuring he had nothing better to do, he did. He and the Ghost followed the Cyborg who was walking down the halls, one hand running along the wall. Every once in a while she would pause to press her bare palm against the wall as if testing something, then she would continue on her way.

"What's up with her?" The Marshal hissed in the Ghost's ear.

"Says something's wrong." The Ghost replied. The Cyborg halted, looking at them expectantly. She then turned stepping into a door that had just been exposed. Darkness engulfed her and the other two plunged in after her. The door slid shut behind them and for a while nothing could be seen. The Cyborg said something and a soft light started shining overhead.

The passage they had entered was exceedingly thin and very dusty. The Cyborg slipped in amongst old abandoned wires and cables that came out of walls. "Don't touch them." She said as the Marshal made to brush them aside. "They are unstable at best." She didn't face them, but continued on her way. She wound her way through the wires as the other two picked their way. Her usual stiffness a she moved was gone as she fluidly darted amongst the bits of machinery.

She stopped in front of a dusty panel and used a handkerchief to wipe is clean. It came to life as she wiped away the last of the dust. It beeped at her and then let out a screech. The Cyborg placed both her hands on it and hummed a note at it. It quieted and she hummed another note at it. It flickered and she started to move her hands over it.

"What is it?" The Marshal asked, finally caught up to the Cyborg as she moved windows across the screen. Her eyes were flickering as she rapidly read the symbols in the different files.

"Something is wrong." The Cyborg stated, not looking at him. "I cannot tell what though."

"What can we do to help?" The Marshal said. The Cyborg didn't respond, brow creased as she continued to read the screen. She ran two fingers down the side and it shut down. "What are you-?"

The Cyborg had turned and was already going back the way she had come, this time at a faster pace. The side of her head blinked as a light turned on under her wig. She was muttering to someone or something as she moved down the passage. The door slid open before her and she exited into the main hall, moving briskly down it. The Marshal and the Ghost as to increase their pace to keep up with her and all the while the Cyborg was muttering and humming notes.

The Cyborg turned a corner and froze. The Marshal ran into her and she tripped, catching herself just before she hit the ground and stumbling forward. She struck something that made a low noise and grabbed her yanking her up. The Cyborg slashed with her hand, the Marshal's knife held tightly in her grip. It slid through the air harmlessly but something stuck her in the gut.

The Cyborg gasped and jerked away from the other. She deflected a blow and the others could see her eyes were closed. The Ghost slid down her goggles and aimed her gun. The fight between the Cyborg and the other person didn't last long, the Cyborg found herself locked in a choke hold with something metallic pressed to her temple. Her eyes widened; death didn't scare her yet the gun was cool against her skin.

"You're good." A voice hissed into her ear. "Really good. But I know about you, you're this ship's good luck charm." The voice was heavily accented.

"There is no such thing as luck." The Cyborg stated flatly, staring at the Marshal and the Ghost. The Marshal went for his gun as the Ghost maintained her aim at whoever was behind the Cyborg.

"Ah-ah-ah, no go, brother." The person holding the gun flickered into existence. He was taller than the Cyborg, pressing her head back into his chest. Her chest slowly filled with air, then emptied. "Now, we're just going to make this easy. I'm going to take her and you both are going to die."

The Confederate placed his finger on the trigger and the Ghost tightened her grip. "Or I could kill her. I know you don't want that to happen. Not while you are on this piece of junk." The Marshal locked eyes with the Cyborg's. She blinked, chest inflating. "I know all about you sister." He hissed in her ear.

"And I, you." The Cyborg stated. "Your file is quite fascinating, the fabrication of your facts is almost flawless."

"It's not fake, I did all that." The Man hissed. The Cyborg breathed in, a smirk crossing her face.

"You know someone will eventually call you out." She said, her voice low. Kathrine breathed out. Her eyes met the Marshal's and she blinked, smirk becoming more prominent.

"Well at least I'll have your death under my belt if it ever does happen." The Ship heaved a shuddering breath. Kathrine closed her eyes.

"Yes, you will have killed someone who cannot under any circumstances protect herself, it's against her programming. Oh, very impressive." She sneered. The Ship shakily breathed out.

"You're awfully talkative for merely a good luck charm."

"Yeah, I react to pain by getting chatty, used to annoy the heck out of my ex." The Ship and the Cyborg breathed in, Kathrine laughed. The Marshal grabbed the Ghost and yanked her away from the two beings pressed together as electricity from one of the loose wires flooded the area.

"Shit, the Doc's gonna kill me."

**Meh. I should be finishing up the last of my school work. But I don't want to write an essay about music. Music can't be put into words, music is flowing, ever changing, it is never static like words are Hmm... maybe I should write that for my extracredit thingy! Hahaha! Thanks guys! :D (Reviews do make me happy...)  
**


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

The Ship blacked out. Darkness and absolute silence permeated the halls. A single light blinked, hidden by a curtain of dark hair. The Cyborg jerked up, pushing the form that was splayed across her body off her with an unprecedented force. The body fell off her and lay still, the smell of burning filling the air. She stood up on steady legs and turned away from the body.

The Cyborg bolted, darting through the halls blindly. She crashed into her office, yanking wires to her with a fierceness that was savage. She threw her wig off, plugging in wires into her scalp rapidly. The Cyborg kicked her chair across the room and ripped her shirt open and continued to shove wires into herself.

The Cyborg breathed in, closing her eyes as she searched for a spark that would let her know the Ship was alive. She finally exhaled, blinking as she found nothing. She slumped against her desk, taking a few shaky breaths. Her hands were unsteady as she pulled out all the wires. She straighten herself, pulling her shirt closed and blinked. Her eyes burned as she turned away from the desk and towards the wall with the picture on it.

There was a bang from the door. "Kitti, open up!" The Marshal sounded hoarse, "I know you're in there." The Cyborg glanced at the door before opening a drawer in her desk, taking out a large baton she kept for security. She flicked it out, gripping it tightly. She yanked down the old picture hanging on the wall. She looked over the panel with it's mismatching grain pattern, then she raised the baton and slammed it into the seam between the panels.

"Shit, Kathrine, are you okay?" She rammed the baton against the wall, a buckle forming. Again and again she hit the same spot until finally a hole appeared. The Cyborg let out a breath, sliding her hand through the whole and into the other side of the wall. There was a click from the panel and the Cyborg had to catch the panel. She let out a cry as her hand bent back as the heavy metal fell onto her. The calls from outside had stopped.

Removing her hand from the hole hurt, loose electrical charges shot up her arm. She whimpered, shoving the panel off of her. It clattered to the floor. She stood up, cradling her arm to her side. The Cyborg turned to face the newly exposed hall before stepping into it. There were two doors, one the same steel that the rest of the ship was made out of, the other was made out of wood, painted a light blue. The Cyborg walked past the blue to push a button on the steel door. The door popped open slightly, leaving her to shove it open with one hand. It stuck, gears unwilling to move. Dust met the Cyborg as she peered into the room.

There was nothing in the room other than what could be an infirmary bed and wires similar to the ones she used daily. She stumbled over to the bed, falling harshly onto it. The Cyborg shifted to her back, trying to unbutton the rest of her shirt with one hand. A pair of hands covered her one, assisting her in the removal of her shirt.

"What do you need help with Kathrine?" The voice was soft as the Marshal helped her sit off and pull off the ruined shirt.

"The wires." She stated choppily. "They need to go."

"Hush, just guide my hand to the right way. We'll get through this."

"Where's Kerri-" She said as the Marshal leaned over her, picking up wires and moving them over her body until she nodded.

"Sarah's finding the Doc, she helped me open your door but we figured you would need help." James said, as he slid wires into her skin.

"Thank-" She started again.

"Shush. You're in shock, let's get this done, and then you can thank me." He stated. The wires were quickly placed with in her and slowly she relaxed.

"What about this one, it goes to you wrist, right?" The Cyborg nodded not willing to look at the wrist that had been forced through the paneling. "How am I supposed to do this?" James asked, running his hand down her arm, stopping above the wrist that was sitting at an unnatural angle.

"Just do it." She ground out, "I'll be in the systems soon enough."

"But-"

"It'll hurt, but it's my duty. This is the only room with power, the emergency packs won't last long. My pain doesn't matter. I'm a Cyborg, it's my job." Kathrine said, closing her eyes again.

She opened them as she felt a shift of movement from James. He leaned over her, kissing her forehead as he shoved the wire into her. She screamed, the noise metallic and hollow. He grabbed her shoulders as she arched off the the bed.

As she slumped back onto the bed, James ran a hand down her cheek, wiping away tears that were leaking out of her eyes. She thrashed and screamed again. Then she lay still, lungs slowly filling with air. She breathed in, she breathed out, in again, out again. A small smile crossed her tear streaked face. She gasped, eyes shooting open, and the Ship breathed in. She fell back again, tears starting to leak again.

James continues to stroke her cheek, as she lay still, breathing slowly beginning to regulate. There was a clatter from the hall leading into the office and there was the Doctor and the Ghost, rather out of breath. The Doctor crossed over the the Cyborg, taking her pulse. He checked her wrist and clicked his tongue. He gently ran a hand over the damaged appendage. "Bent the metal, cut a few wires, this isn't going to that easy of a fix." He muttered to himself.

Then he straightened, looking at the two others in the room. He beckoned for the Ghost to come closer. "Lieutenant, I would like you to meet Kathrine." The Ghost made to open her mouth, "She is the most innocent woman on this ship, follows the law perfectly, and will never hurt someone out of spite or anger. Nor can she keep secrets." He said. The Doctor crossed over a wall, wiping the dirt off of a screen with his sleeve. "Computer?"

The Cyborg's face appeared, "Yes sir?"

The Doctor turned to the Ghost. "What would you like her to tell you? Anything? Nothing too serious, she is currently in secure mode and will kill you."

"Your file mentions you are engaged, who to?" the Ghost asked after a moments hesitation.

"Name, Dante Gershwin, gender, female, born-"

"Why did you join the military?" The Ghost cut across her.

"I was given a choice. I could join or I could not help my planet's chances of survival during the-"

"What's your favorite color?" This time it was James.

The Cyborg's image turned to face him. "I appreciate the color blue, though I do find purple aesthetically pleasing."

"How did you meet Dante?"

"We were classmates and we both liked music."

"Did you love her?"

"Yes."

"That's enough." the Doctor cut them off. "You have to understand, she will not remember this. She is far too programmed to even know about this. This is the most human you will see her, when she's most vulnerable." He looked at the bed, where the Cyborg lay arms out, face relaxed, breathing even. "This is what you were trying to hack, Kerrigan. There is no need to hack, she will not betray anyone unless ordered to or unless it is not for the better of the human race. She gave up what it means to be human willingly, so that she could protect."

"It is not my place to tell you of Dante," the Doctor continued, his voice becoming softer. "But know that she was a terran, but she cannot cope living like that. She only has one love now, the Ship and its duties."

The Doctor looked up, turning to face the Ghost. "If you want to learn about her, don't try to read her mind. Get her to trust you, then maybe she will talk, because no amount of hacking will get into her secrets, no amount of wheedling will get out the whole truth. Treat her as you would anyone else, she is different, but she can be terran, she can be normal."

**This has been on my computer for about a week. I still don't like it. But I've tried to rewrite it again and again and again. Other than that, I've been distracted by videogames. I'm not going to lie. :D  
**


End file.
